Eventuality
by Birchtail
Summary: The lives of the team, or the world they protect? Even when Artemis does make the right decisions, the aftermath always tends to catch up with her. And some kinds of consequences can't be outrun. Possible light Traught in places and Spitfire all through.
1. Pulling the Pin

**A/N: So, here's my first attempt at a YJ fic! Hope everybody's IC and it isn't boring.**  
**Pleas note that this takes place at the very end of the Invasion saga. A point which we have not reached yet. At this point in time, the ship mentioned is the only remaining hostil****e alien ship.**

**I really do apologize to those waiting on my other stories, but I couldn't resist. :)**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. **

**Warnings: There's going to be a great deal of angst in this story. Please don't read if you can't handle it.**

"Make your choice."

The silence pressed in on Artemis' head in between the clipped, triumphant words coming from the holoscreen in front of her. She wanted to drop to her knees; wanted to put her hands over her ears; wanted to be somewhere, anywhere else.

Anything to escape the decision with which she was now faced.

It wasn't as if it was the first time she'd had to make a choice with her team's lives hanging in the balance. But before, she'd had an out. A narrow out, but one nevertheless.

Now she had no other options. The aliens hovering above Earth in their ship-the last one belonging to their species-had only one missile left. They now desired nothing more than revenge for the deaths of their comrades, and they were making Artemis choose because she was the only member of the team they didn't have captured. And one that had caused the most damage in their ranks. It had been difficult, but she had made her victory good. And now it was to be turned back on her as a curse.

Artemis lifted her head to stare at the screen again. She was in the bioship-the only occupant and the pilot, hovering in space several hundred miles above the edge of the atmosphere. M'gann was gone, along with the rest of the team, because her stealth and telepathic abilities were more valued than Artemis' martial arts and archery skills. At the time, Artemis had complained-and now, she only wished M'gann was here to make the decision in older, wiser maturity.

The images projected onto the ship's clear shield weren't horrifying in and of themselves-it was the idea of _choosing _between them that tortured her.

On one side of the screen, her team was bound and collared in the bowels of a pod far outside the alien ship, in which they'd once tried to escape and failed as the pod's security system took over. They were somewhere too dark for her to be able to recognize their surroundings but light enough for her to see the team members. They were all there-from Bart to M'gann to Dick.

And Wally. Artemis looked away, burying her face in her hand for the billionth time. He was tied and collared like the rest, but there was a spark of something behind his eyes-an unaccusing, accepting look that told her that no matter what happened to him, he'd always be proud of her.

She turned her face to the other side of the screen. There lay the world, a beautiful blue-and-green globe with white streaks of clouds swirled around it like fresh white paint in water. Billions of people, inhabiting the land under the clouds. Young people. Old people. And the billions in between.

_Human beings. _

**_Just like the team up there! _**Artemis' mind argued back. _**They're all people, living, breathing, **__**loving**__** people, and what's more, you **__**know **__**them! They're your friends, the people that trusted and mistrusted you, the people that you loved and that loved you back.**_

_ And that's the world, Artemis. It doesn't matter if you know them or if you don't. There are billions of people there, and to let your own love for a few destroy the many-__**that **__is wrong._

Artemis looked up. Garfield was shaking a little but still obviously trying to smile. M'gann was silent, her eyes closed. She'd been knocked out by the collar she wore when she tried to telepathically comfort her little brother earlier.

Bart was calm, though his shadowed eyes looked a little sad behind the yellow-tinted goggles. He was probably thinking about the future he both had had and never would see.

Dick was sitting half upright against the wall, still maintaining his classic battle-ready dignity even when he had no chance of escape. Artemis couldn't see his eyes behind the reflective white lenses in the mask, but it almost looked like he was cracking a little grin. Encouragement, probably.

The rest of the team were quiet as well, and though the younger ones looked a little frightened at best, they were resigned. They knew what was the only choice Artemis had; they were just waiting for her to make it.

_They want me to do it. They want me to save the world, for them. _

Artemis gritted her teeth. She hardened her mind and steeled her entire being for what she was about to decide.

_It's what they want me to do. They know it's the right thing. _

She took one last, long look at the planet on one side, then at her team on the other. She noted that the team was looking at her-they probably could see a holo-image of her as well in the room they were in, judging by the faint bluish light casting the hollows of their faces into shadow.

"I've made up my mind," she spoke, trying to keep her voice steady. It broke on the second word out of her mouth. She could see Wally out of the corner of her eye as she stared at the image between the two choices on the screen, an image of one of the faceless offworlders that had once tried to conquer the blue planet.

She knew they had only one missile left. And when they had offered her the choice-she hadn't resisted, because they would have chosen otherwise, and if they had chosen, she suspected it would have been Earth.

Artemis didn't know how she would have been able to take that.

She didn't know how she'd be able to take what actually would happen.

Superboy, for all his durability, wouldn't survive the missile. Neither would the rest of the team, for it had been designed for controlled destruction. A field of disintegration beams, the size fitted to the size of the target at launch, would erupt upon the missile's landing, and then it would be over.

The young archeress spoke again. "Take your sights off our planet," she murmured, low and defeated. There was no use in sounding brave now.

But for the team.

Wally managed a wobbly grin and gave her a thumbs up from under the metal staples around his arms, holding him tight to the wall. She saw tears glint in his eyes, just a few. Nothing to be ashamed of.

Goodbyes tended to be hard for both sides. Beast Boy was sniffling a little, craning his free tail as far as he could in M'gann's direction.

Artemis closed her eyes. When she opened them again, there were tears in them-fast overflowing her lids and spilling down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry," she brokenly whispered.

Finally, one of the team spoke. She was a little surprised she was able to hear-she wouldn't have expected communications to be open after the alien ship's pod locked down.  
It was Wally.

"Artemis..." his voice trailed off, and he looked down for a moment, unsure of what to say next. Then he tightened his lips into a firm line and continued. "Whatever you do, don't feel guilty. Don't let this plague you for the next half century."

She made a fist with the hand hanging by her side. She couldn't exactly stop Wally-contradict him, tell him that no, she would never forget what she had done this day, and never, _never _forgive herself for making this choice. Wally's words were, after all, what you'd call a dying wish.

She watched their faces for a moment longer, memorizing them, storing them somewhere in the back of her mind where they'd be safe forever.

"Goodbye," Dick spoke, his voice steady and that too-brave little smile on his lips.

Wally raised his hand as far as he could, and bent to blow her a kiss.

And then, the screen went static.

A whisper over the faint hum of the bioship.  
"Goodbye, team."

**A/N: No, it's not over. Stay tuned and don't forget to review before the next installment!**


	2. Shrapnel

**A/N: Thanks so much, reviewers! **  
**Many thanks as well to those who favorited and followed. Hope you guys like this chapter!**  
**Also, this one is REALLY short. I just haven't been that motivated to write lately. **  
**For part of this chapter, I listened to the Batman: Under the Red Hood soundtrack, Main Titles.  
**

Artemis awoke with a start. She sat bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding wildly and her hair disheveled about her head.

As the dream faded from her mind, she slowly sank back into the pillow. But even when she closed her eyes, the images burned into the back of each retina wouldn't go away.

The team was in the pod again. The aliens had their missile trained on it, but this time, Wally wasn't either accepting or happy. He was angry, his green eyes cold as ice and shouting silently at her that no matter what happened to him, the rest of the team deserved to live.

Raquel, whose wedding day had been set for the mission's end.

Bart, the child from the future, who'd only wanted to visit his grandpa.

Garfield, who was just _too young_. He had had such a life ahead of him, and now it was all gone.

Thanks to Artemis.

The retired heroine wrapped her arms around her head in a protective gesture. All she wanted was to not think about it for one night.

Just one night of unbroken sleep. But Artemis wouldn't even allow herself, because whenever she considered how much she wanted to forget, she only clung tighter to the memories. She wasn't afraid she'd lose them; oh no. There were so many videotapes from Earth of the explosion in the sky, she'd lost count.

The bioship usually saved a log of the images projected on its screen. She had gone to sit down inside the ship several times since then to watch the video of the team again and again, trying harder every time to discern whether or not Wally really was proud of her, and if Dick just might be angry and hiding it. She knew it wasn't doing anybody good, but she tried to convince herself it was therapeutic, because it felt wrong to stop trying to remember.

Artemis shook her head to snap herself out of it. These thoughts weren't good; she had to put up armor against them before she got up. So she sat for a few minutes in bed, contemplating her day.  
She'd been paid off for her work by the Justice League. They'd felt the only honorable thing they could do for the one remaining member of the younger counterpart to the League was to give her a living.

So Artemis didn't have to work. But she wanted to. She wanted most of all, though, to go back to the life of a heroine.

But she couldn't imagine putting on the green suit soaked through with memories, taking up the bow that hadn't been able to save her team's lives the one time it mattered.

She fumbled for the clock next to the bed, finally wrapping her fingers around the digital clock and picking it up to see the time.

_5:59. One minute before the alarm._

Artemis sighed and pressed the alarm's off button with a bowstring-callused forefinger.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, throwing the covers back as she sat up.

Yawning, she rubbed her bleary eyes with one hand, then put the alarm clock back on the nightstand. It made a scraping sound as it hit the wood, and she was on her feet in an instant, poised like a wild mare to either flee or strike out.

Her tensed shoulders, neck and calves relaxed as she realized that it had been only one more ordinary sound.

Artemis shook her head again as she made her way to the top of the second-story stairs in the little house she called her own.

She rubbed her neck, trying to avert the headache she knew was coming. She'd never been like this before. Even when she was on a mission, she wasn't so jumpy.

She'd also never been completely alone before, at all times. It wasn't a new feeling, this loneliness, but it had been years since last she had it. And last time, there hadn't been the grief. It was always there, like a half-ton weight bearing down on her shoulders.

Sure, Artemis had heard of the five stages of grief. But for her, it seemed to be coming all at once-denial, when she looked at the newspaper in the morning, saw the smoke trails of her team's death written in every column, and refused to believe it; anger, when she lay in bed and plotted and mused over the few enemies who had forced her to choose; bargaining, when she thought and thought about how Impulse made his time machine and what she'd give to find someone who'd make another; depression, which hung over every moment; and...

Acceptance? Perhaps that was the only thing that was yet to come.

Artemis stumbled down the stairs. She made her way to the kitchen, looked into the freezer and retrieved an old TV dinner, half shriveled from being in the freezer for so long. She took it, staring at it briefly (_If Wally were here, he'd never let it get that old) _before taking it to the microwave and putting it in. She set the timer for two minutes and leaned back against the stove to wait.

The hum of the microwave sounded loud in the silence, and it seemed like forever before it was finally ready.

* * *

At noon, Artemis finished a chapter of the Sherlock she'd been halfheartedly reading, and decided to go for a walk. Getting outside would do her good.

She got up from the couch, then headed to the door. She was just reaching for her jacket when her cell phone rang in her pocket. She grabbed it, pressed the green button, then held it to her ear with her shoulder while she put on her shoes.

"Hello?"

"Artemis. It's Batman."

Her eyes widened, and she almost let the phone drop, reaching to catch it with a free hand as she recovered from the surprise. It had been over a month since she'd heard from a League member.

"Why-why are you calling?"

"I've got something to show you, Artemis." He paused for a second.

"And we have to talk."


	3. Stitches

**A/N: Longer this time! Hope you like it, people, and many thanks to those who faved/followed. :) **  
**Please don't forget to review! And keep in mind that other characters will enter the story soon. Including one surprise guest. (NOT an OC!)  
**

Artemis held her breath. What could the Bat possibly want with her? Surely not another counseling session; Black Canary usually took care of those and Artemis had refused any more after the last one catapulted her back into full-out grieving for four days.

"About what?" she returned to the conversation with a rush of breath.

"You've got to come see what we've got for you first."

"No." She clenched her teeth. "I'm... busy." Fear that they had something to remind her of her team turned her heart to lead, and she frowned, trying to avoid the temptation to go and see. She'd been to the new grotto once already since the incident, out of guilt, and seeing the room, smaller than the last one, filled with so many new holo-images, sickened her.

"You are not busy, Artemis. You're trying to avoid talking."

She couldn't say anything to that.

The guilt of hiding from the truth that she feared more than anything else, rose up to swallow her up to the chin, and she sucked in a quick breath. There was nothing else for it; she'd have to go see what Batman had, no matter how much pain it caused her.

"I'm coming," she replied, voice low and almost overridden by the static already on the phone at the other end of the line.

"I'll see you this afternoon, then."

A click.

Artemis snatched her jacket off the hook and pulled it over her arms, zipping it up as protection against the chilly fall air outside. She pulled the hood over the top half of her face. Too many questions would be asked; too many people would stare if she left it down.

She stepped out into the brisk fall air, then went to the Civic in the driveway and got in.

It was a long drive to the Justice League headquarters. She lived in D.C., but it was a very large city and it took her a few hours to navigate the traffic-ridden streets to get to the big building. There was too much time to think during those hours, so Artemis focused on the road and played loud music in the background to drown out the wailing in her mind.

Once there, she got out and stood outside the car for a moment, admiring the tall building and the feathery cirrus clouds in the otherwise clear sky. She wrapped her thinly-jacketed arms around herself to keep herself warm. There was a little breeze going now, and it bit at her ears even under the hood and ensured that she'd get the sore throat she'd been trying to fend off for the past few days.

She finally stopped staring and started for the building. It was a long march, first to the foot of the imposing stairs, then to the doors at the top.

Batman met her at the door. He didn't say a word, just nodded in greeting and turned on a heel, leading the way to the side room that contained the zeta portals to various League locations. Once inside, he motioned for her to go to the Batcave's portal.

"Why are we going to the cave?" Artemis frowned. She certainly hoped the Bat wasn't trying to give her a mission.

She was done working with teams.

"What I want to show you is in Gotham." Batman motioned for Artemis to stand in the portal. She did so, standing for only a second before the beam teleported her to the cave.

As soon as she fully materialized inside, Artemis scanned the Batcave for anything unusual. She didn't really expect anything-if Batman wanted to send her on a mission, he wouldn't have anything here.

Except for her bow and quiver. Artemis hadn't kept those; she'd given them to the Justice League after her team's death. Batman would have them here if he expected her to go on a mission-or at least he'd have _something. _In the entire main room of the cave, there was nothing, not even her old Tigress mask from the days after she'd faked her death.

Batman was practical, and not dramatic at all when it came to anyone but the bad guys. If he wanted to send her on a mission, he'd have the costume and supplies here, right now, so she could get them on as fast as possible.

And he didn't.

The Bat materialized in the zeta tube next to Artemis. He stepped forward to scan the cave as well, an instinctive action.

"What do you want to show me?" asked Artemis, both curiosity and warning clear in her voice. She wouldn't like to have come this far only to see something she couldn't participate in anyway.

Batman didn't say a word. He just walked across the cave, to the rugged stone wall on the other side of the huge room. Artemis followed, then waited for him.

He pressed a little button on the inside of a ridge of rock on the wall. A concealed panel, thinner than the rest of the rock, landed on the Batcave's floor with a resounding _clang. _He walked up it and into the small, dark room beyond.

Artemis, mouth slightly open from the surprise, noticed another zeta beam in the room as soon as her eyes adjusted to the dark. "Where does this lead?"

The Bat didn't answer. He went first this time, though, entering the zeta beam before she did.

It took Artemis a moment to process what had just happened. She had gone to the Justice League headquarters in D.C., headed to the Batcave from there, and now she was supposed to go somewhere she assumed the rest of the League didn't even know about, judging from all the dust that had been stirred up when Batman zetaed to the other place, wherever that was.

She stepped into the beam and gave a voiceprint.

Then, for the second of transportation, everything went black.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing that her senses registered was the _green. _

As Artemis took in her surroundings, her eyes readjusted to the dim light, tinted with green as it shone through a tangle of vegetation on the ceiling of a huge cave. She could see the light hit the uneven floor under it; spots of lighter green and yellow as they mingled with the dark, rich color of moss and gnarled gray roots of cedar and hemlock.

It was a peaceful enough scene, the empty 'forest' in the cave, but Artemis was instantly on her guard. There was only the sound of a few ash leaves falling to the moss below to layer the silence, and even after living in a fog of it for months, it seemed strange to her.

"It's yours," he simply stated, placing a black-gloved hand on her shoulder.

Artemis gazed back at him, astonished.

"You needed a place," he told her. "Somewhere you could do the things you were meant to do." He briskly strode to the nearest cave wall, where he pulled at a curved vine and a panel slid back. "Here's the food stock for your cave. Don't forget to ask for a katana if you need one, and the League has lots of spare tonfas and a couple specialty weapons for you to train with."

He headed for the zeta portal, apparently done already even though Artemis hadn't even been able to comprehend her new ownership yet.

She stopped him just as he finished selecting a destination on the keypad next to the portal. "I'll be in the Batcave, any time you need help with something. If I'm not there, go to the League headquarters."

The Bat dematerialized.

Artemis sat down heavily on a nearby rise in the mossy ground. She had no idea where she even was!

But, in a way, this was perfect...

She'd just gotten out of the city, using a simple system of beam portals. Apparently, hers was one into which the destination was not pre-programmed, so she could go anywhere she wanted from here.

This cave was _hers. _

It took a little while for it to sink in. Batman had just given her a cave of her own.

In a way, it made sense. He would have been the only one to see her pain; after all, his own loss of his parents was the only reason he functioned in a cold, lonely cave of stone, and the only reason he'd taken up the cowl.

Artemis stood up and walked to one of the smaller cedars. It was strange indeed that the Bat had gotten her a _forest, _though. She wondered if he hoped that she'd develop some special talent from her surroundings, or maybe that it would inspire a new skill set, weapons, even a costume, maybe.

She lifted her eyes to stare at the lichen-covered rough stone wall, realization and hope dawning in the back of her mind. Perhaps this was the only way she'd be able to forget, without the guilt that came with living in silence and inaction in her empty house.

She walked to the portal, her tennis shoes scuffing on the bare stone nearest the only way out of the cave. She punched in her destination and waited.

In seconds, Artemis was back in the Justice League headquarters. As she walked out of the doors, she had made up her mind.

It was time to start packing.


	4. Infiltrate

Artemis walked out of the door of her house, leaving it to swing shut behind her as she slung a heavy backpack over her shoulder. She'd been able to fit all her 'necessities' in there; three sets of civilian clothes, a few toiletries, and the Sherlock she'd been reading earlier. She hadn't any idea why she packed it; not even her bow had made it into the backpack.

But she was leaving it all behind. The house here would be a thing of the past, and she would leave the suit here at the house, where she'd never have to remember again.

Artemis started her car and drove off down the street she lived on, turning off at the highway junction. The Justice League wouldn't begrudge her the parking space when she got there; she couldn't exactly drive her car into one of the zeta tubes inside. Besides, this way she would be able to leave everything here that brought back memories.

During the long drive through the busy, traffic-congested streets, Artemis considered the type of weapons she would want to train with in as a new hero. She couldn't think of much at first-but she didn't want to use a bow, and wasn't quite comfortable with complete reliance on her martial arts skills. She probably should try a katana. At this point, she really didn't care that the things were capable of badly hurting her enemy.

_Dick didn't pick weapons that actually injured his enemies. Wally wouldn't have either, if he'd needed one._

She gritted her teeth against the thought and focused all her attention on the road.

When she got to the HQ, the lobby of the building was mostly empty. A few tourists were looking at the various glass display cases ringing the room, the plaques in the floor, and the new statues that lined the high walls.

Sixteen statues.

Artemis looked away. She headed for the room where the zeta ports were contained, then pulled her phone from her pocket. She had the cave's coordinates among the notes on her crowded screen. It didn't take her long to find them, and then she punched them in and stepped into the portal.

The cave was quiet and empty as usual. The little artificially-lighted evergreen forest spread bright and pleasant-smelling for only a few feet, then was plunged into darkness. Artemis didn't know what lay beyond; didn't really want to, for now. At the moment, she wanted to find the training room and pick out a weapon or two. The physical effort might tire her out so much that she couldn't think, and she needed that right now.

Sighing, she took a few steps forward along the wall. There had to be doors somewhere in here.

Just as her fingertips brushed the straight edge of a sliding panel in the stone, she heard a noise from the blanket of black evergreens beyond the fluorescent ceiling fixtures. It was barely a stir, but enough for her ears, barely out of practice, to catch.

"Who's there?" Artemis cried, instinctively reaching back for an arrow from her nonexistent quiver. She silently cursed as she found none. What a _perfect_time for someone to come after her.

To her surprise, she heard more rustling as something made its way through the brush and trees toward her. She backed toward the panel, the rough rock drawing blood against her fingertips as they fought to pull it free.

_Please, please open, please,_her thoughts whimpered. She couldn't afford a problem now.

The footsteps neared; they had left the bed of fir needles and she could hear heavy, possibly metal soles ring and scrape across the dark stone of the floor.

The panel slipped behind her hands, and she inhaled sharply as the thing's weight suddenly rested on her. She slowly allowed it to drop out, feeling the edge of a fingernail tear with the strain. But she had to have an out. There was no time to zeta out now, and she was completely unarmed.

She hadn't had enough practice. Her martial arts skills would still be better than most black belts, but she wouldn't get very far with a fully armed enemy.

The person was halfway into the light. She could see it was a man now, and there was something vaguely familiar about the defiant way he carried himself...

The door fell to the floor, leaving a crack just large enough for her to squeeze through. She only hoped that it was too small for the intruder.

The man stepped into the light. It took a moment for her brain to register his presence-hell, his even _existing-_and during that instant, the man reached to his belt and pulled out two pistols.

Artemis ducked behind the door, panting; waited for the gunshots. Instead, she heard a loud clatter as they fell onto the stone.

She dared to turn back, warily observing this stranger she seemed to know.

He was quite tall, around six feet, though Artemis' slightly elevated position made him look shorter. The stranger wore a gray Kevlar vest under a dark leather jacket_, _heavy khaki pants, combat boots, and gloves. A small white streak near the front was the only difference in his otherwise jet hair, and a red domino mask with reflective white lenses concealed his eyes.

"Don't remember me, do you, Artemis?"

She closed her eyes. A soft little sigh escaped her lips.

The footsteps, which had stopped, came rapidly now. He was standing in the door within seconds, kneeling next to the former hero. The white lock fell back over his eyes as he reached up to strip the mask off, then the green-rimmed pupils flitted back down to make sure Artemis was at least breathing. She was, but she was also unconscious. He was quick to lift her, making sure he didn't bump her head on the rough stone of the wall.

The stranger carried her out of the room (which was fully stocked with weapons, as Artemis had expected) and into the main chamber of the cave. He carefully lowered her to the ground just outside another room, then slid the panel away from that door.

His lips curved in a moment of humorless superiority. He'd learned more about this cave in the past two days of staking it out than its owner knew.

He strode back to the unconscious girl on the floor, then picked her up again and hauled her to the other room, finally depositing her on the folding cot inside.

He stepped back outside to wait for her to wake up.

**A/N: Could have done with a better ending, but it'll have to do for now.  
Hope you liked, and please review! Bet you've guessed who the 'surprise guest' was. :)**


	5. Scars

Stirring could be heard from inside. There was a little surprised yelp as Artemis found herself in a room she didn't even know about before, then he heard her feet hit the floor, grating against the cold granite.

She was at the door in a second, but the stranger was ready for her. He stood a few feet from the entrance, his arms folded, posture casual. Artemis was wide-eyed and openmouthed as soon as she saw him again, and he waited, bored, for her amazement to evaporate and the questions to begin.

"You're-you're... no. It's somebody playing a trick." Artemis thought aloud, her voice disbelieving. She neared a few steps, but stayed well away from the intruder, wary of him even though her memories told her who he was.

"Look-you didn't even get the hair right!" She pointed to the white streak, instinctively trying to make up for the paradox in her mind, but the man's face buckled under a bitter grin.

"I don't like it either," he murmured, allowing her to hear his voice again. She would believe him; even the most stubborn mind accepts the truth after a while.

"Jason," she weakly whispered, stepping forward once more, close enough to touch his arm if she reached out.

Something inside the Red Hood rebelled against his restraint and made him want to put a comforting hand on her shoulder; maybe let her cry into the leather of his jacket. They'd lost many of the same things; friends, social lives. The only difference was that Jason didn't even have to fake his death, and he was already damaged when he woke up.

He resisted, but hated the stare she put on him for every second that it lasted.

"What, do I look _that _bad?" Jason's voice dripped with cynicism, and Artemis dropped her eyes.

"You're... alive." It was half a question, and the former team member sighed in frustration.

"No, I'm dead, but I _did _remember to get taller, and dead people are surprisingly good with remembering the Kevlar." He motioned to the bulletproof jacket he was wearing. "Honestly, what does it look like?"

"But how..."

Jason was getting really irritated now, and he felt a distinctly unfriendly, curse-laden retort coming up his throat. So he stifled it by simply stepping forward and taking Artemis by the arm.

"I didn't come to talk about me," he said, voice low. "So don't try."

"How are you even here?"

She just didn't know when to stop. The Red Hood tightened his grip on her arm, causing her to wince and flinch just a hair away from him.

_Actions speak louder than words. _

Artemis contained her burning curiosity, with some difficulty.

She tried again, with a different type of question. "Where are you taking me?"

"To the kitchen." In response to her bewildered look, he clarified, "There isn't more than one chair anywhere else."

When they reached the room, which was on the edge of the forest, she allowed Jason to slip in before her. He pulled two chairs away from the table, waiting with a heavily-gloved hand on the back of one while Artemis approached. She took the other one, not realizing how rare the politeness was on Jason's side.

He sat down in the wooden chair while Artemis settled in the other one.

"I've come to talk about your choices," he explained, his voice suddenly serious, lacking any of the sarcasm of earlier.

Artemis didn't respond, still shocked at his presence in the world of the living.

"_Stop staring!" _he yelled, releasing the string of pent-up curses he'd been holding in from his initial annoyance.

Artemis scooted the chair back, and Jason gave her a glare. "Stay," he commanded, voice deadly. "We have to talk, and you're not supposed to act like a hormonal teenager anymore. _Listen to me,_" he hissed through his teeth.

She shook her head, glanced back once more at Jason's still-brilliant green eyes, then looked down at the table, studying the grain in the smooth wood.

"Are you going to listen now?"

"Yeah," she breathed, the hair on the back of her neck prickling at the very sound of his voice. It was the same as it had been on the team all those years ago, except that it was deeper, and carried an edge. She was still aching to know what had happened to bring him back, or if it was only a fake like her death-but she knew better than to ask now.

But why would Jason Todd be so concerned with her life choices?

His next words confirmed the answer.

"You're probably wondering why I took interest in you," he said, leaning over the table to engage her.

"Yeah," Artemis repeated, nodding.

"We're the same in many ways. You faked your death... I actually died. Same effect on the friends and family, really." He grinned bitterly, and she was sure she could see a twinge of sadness somewhere in the green eyes.

"If you died, then how are you alive now?" She bit her lip as soon as the words tumbled out. She couldn't resist asking; it was just too strange to see him here.

Jason ignored her question. Perhaps it embarrassed him, and he just didn't want to admit it.

"All right, I'm beating around the bush. I would like to train you."

"Train me?"

"Yeah. You need to learn a different style than before-I know how it is, leaving one life behind for another. You don't want to remember, because it hurts too much."

He leaned forward a little further on the table, green eyes narrowed and intent.

"And you don't really care anymore if your enemies feel the same pain you did."

Artemis shuddered. He had somehow guessed correctly; he knew all her feelings and thoughts, saw all the anger and the pain and knew it inside out because _he'd seen it all._

"I know what you're going through, Artemis."

Her head snapped up, the anger suddenly rising to the defensive as more tears welled in her eyes.

"If you're trying to coerce me into joining you, or following you, or anything, it's not working. I don't do team stuff anymore," she bit out.

"I don't either," he murmured, looking down for a moment. "But you need training. Training you _won't _get from either the Justice League or Batman. You need to know how to kill, because _effectively _fighting the bad guys is the best way to forget."

Jason scraped his chair back, standing up abruptly and picking up the mask. "If you want to take me up on the offer, I'll be in the forest in here. Just shout."

He stopped for a moment, remembering something important. "And _don't _yell for 'Jason'. Just try something like..." his voice trailed off. If Batman decided to visit, shouting 'Red Hood' wouldn't be very good either. "'Hey.'"

And then the combat boots echoed on the stone outside and the sound became more and more muffled as he ran across the needle-floored, strange little forest in the cave.

Artemis rested her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands.

**A/N: Short chapter, but man, it was fun to write! I love writing Jason Todd. :) **  
**Oh, and to those reviewers who jumped with joy at the thought of Jason/Artemis... sorry to disappoint you, but I was planning more of a sister/brother relationship. They do have a lot in common. **  
**Also, should any of you have questions about Jason's backstory here-it's a mix of comicverse and the canon from the movie ****_Batman: Under The Red Hood. _****Jason's working alone, not with the Outlaws, and he was only resurrected once in the Lazarus Pit. Obviously, he has the white streak, which is only comic!canon. **  
**Please review! **  
**Also, do you think Artemis will become a team with Jason? Tell me in the reviews; I'd like to hear your opinion even if I've already pretty much made up my mind.**


	6. Brother In Blood

**Okay! One thing I want to make clear to start out this chapter is that nobody in the Batfam, or the Justice League, for that matter, knows that Jason is the Red Hood. Or alive. Obviously, I have a little headcanon going on here, in addition to the mingling of comic and movie!canon I already told you about. **

A grin, white against the quiet, pine-scented darkness all around.

The crunch of the toe of a boot on the needles padding the thin, stony earth.

A tired groan and the scrape of leather and Kevlar against bark as the dark figure in the trees settled down for the night.

His ears perked. He could hear Artemis, not more than twenty feet away, moving about in the kitchen. She wouldn't fix anything big; just as much as she needed and no more.

Grieving was a strange process; it made you hungry and took away your appetite at the same time. He should know. Watching your family's grieving process for nearly a year after your disappearance-watching the Bat hang his head in the rain after a resounding victory that should rightfully have been satisfying; seeing Dick lose his grip on an Amazo's wrist just as he had the chance to finish it off, even the water Barbara had had to wipe out of her eyes as she stood in the door of one of Gotham's many warehouses, preparing to fight the _villain _they knew as the Red Hood. Jason could have sworn the moisture hadn't been rain.

Jason still had to clench his teeth every time the words drifted through his head.

_Villain. _

_Criminal._

Hell, some Leaguer whose name he didn't even remember now had called him 'baddie' lips curved a little at that one, though. It wasn't too far from what he'd thought of himself as during his days as Robin. All right, maybe not _baddie, _but definitely _bad boy... _and perhaps even _badass. _Trying to follow in the steps of the Golden Child had gotten tiring every once in a while.

The sound of a clatter of pans and a few choice swears echoed from the kitchen, startling Jason from his memories. He scrambled back to his feet, stepping back a few feet, slipping behind a tree. If Artemis came out of the kitchen, she might turn the lights in the cave back on, and then she'd be able to see him clear as day. He was much closer to her than he'd led her to believe, and he didn't quite want a tonfa-slinging madwoman, well trained in martial arts, running about in the forest in which he'd taken up temporary residence. After all, he had no idea how she would react. Artemis had always been one of the moodier members of the team, and it would be rather shocking for her to realize Jason was back from the dead.

His shoulders jerked with the remnants of a bitter laugh. How strange that he should tell her he was alive before he told his family.

What was left of it.

He shook the thoughts off. They were too difficult to deal with. Guilt, because he had always hated Dick somewhere in his soul even as he grudgingly admired him and longed to match up to what he had been. And more guilt, because he had never once concealed his hatred for the 'replacement'. Once, he'd even injured him-sent a bullet for his leg and missed the bone by half an inch.

Guilt, because in Bruce's darkest hour, he decided to stay dead when he was the only one who had a choice.

And anger, because insolent little Damian would probably be arrogant enough to _ask _if he could be Robin, and Bruce would just heap more and more blame on himself because that was the only way he'd ever learned to cope.

He flattened his body to the bark, screwed his eyes shut, and recalled better days.

...

"Crap!" Artemis, running out of good swear words and none too pleased about it, sat down on the floor in the middle of the mess she'd just created. One pull at a random pan handle sticking out of the heap of dishes cluttered on the counter, and the whole mess had come crashing to the floor. There were a few broken dishes (not that she would have used them anyway; why did Batman think she would need lots of _dishes?)_, several pans scattered on the floor, and something heavy had knocked one of the wooden cabinet doors loose on its way down.

Why, oh why, did things like this always have to happen to her? She never was that good of a cook... and she hadn't even gotten to the cooking part yet.

Her mind wandered to her visitor, and she moodily pursed her lips before standing up and walking to the door, pushing a few pans out of the way and crunching a shard of ceramic before she reached it.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted into the dark, silent forest.

_"Hey!" _

**A/N: This chapter was so much FUN to write! It's also really short... oops. This story's going pretty well in my book (haha, punny) and we haven't gotten to the best part yet!**  
**But at least you get a lot of updates in a few days! **

**Oh, and also, in case you didn't know it, a tonfa is a fancy stick to hit people with. Basically. :P It's used in Eastern martial arts.  
Please review. I love feedback, and I'll love you too if you give me some. :)**


	7. Consequential

**A/N: This chapter has some more action and violence in it, and LOTS of swords. Don't read if you personally can't handle that stuff. **  
**I know I'm being paranoid, but I just needed to make sure...  
**

"Attack!"

The battle cry bounced off the ceiling and echoed as it hit the stone walls of the cave's training room, setting a fire beneath the blond warrioress' lackluster fighting, just as was intended by her trainer.

The Hood grinned, pleased with the turn the battle was taking. He was losing, and that was good. Very good. Because for days on end, he hadn't been able either to make Artemis angry or bring her grief up to fight for her. Light a fire under the former archer, and she would become a force to be reckoned with.

As she was not more than five minutes ago, she could hardly reckon with the force of another fighter.

Jason swung the katana closer to her face, allowing it to come very near her cheek. He watched fire spark in her eyes, and grinned wider. Now she wouldn't give up.

She pressed closer in on him, metal scraping and sliding on metal as her blade pushed his back.

_She's strong. _The realization came almost too late, for the former archer's grief-fueled strength gave him such a shove that he had to stumble backwards. Heart now galloping with the sudden adrenaline, he rapidly regained stable footing and yanked at the handle of his katana, trying to free it from where Artemis pinned it against his bulletproof jacket.

Her eyes met his and burned back into them. She was angry.

_Maybe a little less motivation next time._

She pressed her blade harder against his side, and he was instantly glad he'd remembered to turn the flat side of the metal toward himself as she had slapped it toward him earlier in the fight.

"You're not _resisting,_Jason," she said, tone dripping with mockery. Perhaps she had learned more from her father than the Hood had dared to assume.

Artemis suddenly flipped her blade up, releasing Jason's katana. He was barely foolish enough to believe she was done, and his sword was instantly at the ready, pointed toward her and prepared for combat.

But now he was feeling like a little boy with a water gun pointed at a samurai. If he had his guns, perhaps even that beauty of an AK-47 he had back at home, he would have won the fight in an instant. It wasn't that he hadn't been trained enough, or that he was bad at his job-it just was that Artemis had previous training in this type of fighting from her days as a member of the Shadows.

And now he had thoroughly infuriated her.

With a savage war cry, Artemis leaped forward, pulling her sword back and aiming straight for Jason's heart. He knew Kevlar wouldn't be able to stop that. So he stepped to the side at the last moment, leaving the former archer out of momentum.

But in the next second, she had her katana aimed once more for his heart.

He had told her she must learn how to kill, but never expected she'd try to kill him.

In this case, running wouldn't be cowardly. This was training, and it was getting out of hand.

So Jason ran.

_Three Hours Later..._

_..._

Artemis gave a heavy sigh.

"Calm down, Artemis," she ordered herself, sitting down in one of the chairs next to the table in the kitchen.

She took a glance around herself, and couldn't help but cringe a little. Her anger hadn't done the surroundings any good; there were a few sword slashes in the furniture, and a lot of stuff had gotten knocked off shelves in her blind fury.

The former archer rose to start the clean up process. While she was engaged in clearing the counter and washing the dishes (not many of them were still completely intact) in the sink, she remembered with a start that she wasn't supposed to be alone.

The fight in the training room. Jason had run, and with good reason. The red mist had begun to rise before Artemis' eyes, and she feared now that she would have done something awful if her trainer hadn't left when he did.

She pressed her hands to her tired eyes, resting her elbows on the edge of the sink. She could only hope Jason wouldn't be wary of her for days afterward.

He had pushed her too hard. It was a common tactic and one he usually used to full advantage without incidence, this angering of one's student in the attempt to strengthen them. But this time, he'd gone too far. There was nothing in the world that infuriated her like the memory of betraying her team. She didn't even think Jason had that kind of anger-and an angry Red Hood was not someone you wanted to meet in a dark alley.

She could only hope he wouldn't be furious with her when she tried to find him again.

And worse yet, it was almost time for one of Batman's routine visits to the cave-she really wished he would stop checking up on her. She was beginning to get worried that he'd find out she had been training, so she always made sure the katanas, tonfas and sais she used were safely put away as soon as she was finished.

Thankfully, the Bat stuck to a stringent schedule, only coming about once a month. Three had passed since Artemis was given the cave, giving her enough reason to believe he would not come at other times unless she called out a League-class emergency.

She straightened her back, hearing a pop as she did so.

_Not enough stretching. _

The counter was mostly clear by now, as was the floor. The scratches in the furniture could wait to be fixed.

Artemis walked to the door, steps hesitant. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. It came out a little shaky, nervous.

"Hey!"

She heard something stir in the darkest part of the forest. Jason would be checking for Batman just about now, making sure it was all clear.

"Are you better?" Jason said the words a little tentatively, though for a different reason than Artemis had. He had good purpose for being wary.

"Yeah." She paused, looking down to study the steel threshold under her feet. "I'm really sorry," she added as the Hood entered the little circle of light nearest the cave's wall.

"I pushed you too hard," Jason admitted, his tone firm, excusing neither Artemis' nor his mistake.

"Something to eat?" Artemis motioned to the kitchen. She knew the Hood would be hungry, as was she. There wasn't anything on the table; she hadn't had time to fix it yet, but they could share a pizza from the freezer.

"Poison?" he inquired, quirking an eyebrow. She flushed, embarrassed.

"My emotions got away with me back there. It's over now," she assured, hoping he would trust her but realizing that he had good reason not to.

"I'll trust you," he said, but his green eyes were narrowed, and when she went to take the pizza out of the freezer, he double-checked to make sure the cardboard seal was still intact.

She put it in the microwave and leaned against the stove to wait, extremely uncomfortable. Jason was watching her like a hawk.

"Sorry if I make you feel awkward," he muttered, no apology whatsoever in his tone.

"Could you just stop looking at me?"

He didn't respond, just-stared.

The microwave beeped, and Artemis prepared the pizza, cutting it in half and putting half each on two chipped ceramic plates. She took them to the table, set them down, then pulled out a chair and plopped down in it.

Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. Jason was still standing stiff and observant, in exactly the same place he'd been for the last five minutes.

"You eating?"

He moved over to the table, then finally sat down.

Half of Artemis' pizza and as much time out of an hour was gone before he finally picked up his fork.

_Later this evening..._

...

Artemis finally settled into her pillow for the night. The bed was hard compared to what she was used to back home, and the blanket awkward, heavy and a little odd-smelling - but sleeping here for three months had done an excellent job of conditioning her.

She was half dreaming already, pleasant dreams for once. Strange that after such a catastrophic day, she would have nice thoughts. They were memories of a childhood she'd never had, years spent playing in the grass with her mother and a kind older sister who never even considered violence or crime.

And Artemis was too tired to grieve over it, so she just enjoyed the pleasant thoughts drifting through her head.

Suddenly, a sound disrupted her half-sleep, and she bolted upright, instantly throwing the covers aside and standing combat-ready within seconds.

_Jason would be proud. _

The sound happened again. It was low, almost like a moan... perhaps some small animal had gotten into the cave and injured itself on something lying loose. It wasn't as if it hadn't happened before.

Artemis tiptoed across the room, suddenly wishing she had a weapon in her hand. Who knew what it was? It could be some kind of man-eating predator, for all she knew.

And once more. It sounded like it came from the kitchen, but she couldn't be sure.

The room adjoined the one she slept in, so it took her only a moment to reach the door and turn the knob.

She pulled a flashlight from one of the drawers near her, and flipped the switch. She didn't quite want to turn on the lights in the kitchen; she would lose the element of surprise in the case that the intruder was an enemy. She used the light to scan her surroundings, taking her time to carefully check over the room.

The flashlight's beam caught a flash of black and blue, huddled in between the stove and the cupboards at the end of the kitchen. Artemis quickened her pace, reaching a sprint before she skidded to a stop in front of the little heap on the floor.

It moaned again, and she knelt next to it, still wary but now concerned as well. She shone the flashlight over the blue and black it wore.

There was a shape vaguely like a bird, rich blue against the black of the bodysuit's chest, though she couldn't see much of it, for the figure's legs were drawn up to its chest, the black-clad arms protectively wrapped around them.

The intruder turned his face to the beam.

Artemis screamed.

**A/N: All right, so I've finally got the ball rolling! Are you excited to see more of the intruder? **  
**Also, please don't forget to review! I squee every time I see a notice in my inbox. :) **  
**Thanks so much for reading! Expect a new chapter before very long.**


	8. Bluebird

**A/N: Angsty. **  
**Yeah, that's pretty much it.**  
**Also, a little attempt at funny, in a weird way.  
**  
Artemis scrambled backward as fast as she could, scraping her palms on the grout in between the kitchen tiles.

She stopped several feet away to take a second look at the intruder, daring to shine her flashlight back on his face.

"Dammit, Jason!"

She was shaking. Her hands alternately felt as if they were flaming and shattering the floor under them into icy shards. Jason may have wanted to pay her back, but this was not his style.

And _definitely _not a good style.

She made a low sound in her throat, something that was in between a sob and a feral snarl. Never, never in her life, had she expected anyone to have the gall do this to her.

She stood to her feet, taking the floor up in two leaps and then falling to her knees beside the intruder. She would kill Jason for this. There was no excuse for bringing her grief up now, and this was the cruelest possible way to do it.

"Take the mask off! Now!" she cried, but didn't wait for the cringing figure to lift its arms. She simply grabbed the thing by the left side and stripped it off.

It dropped on the floor beside her, the sound loud in the sudden stillness.

Artemis stared into the boy's face.

He had eyes of the truest blue, that color that would never be matched or rivaled by Jason's seafoam green or even Wally's brilliant emerald eyes. Black hair, halfway down his neck and flipping in different directions all over his head. Dick never had liked to cut his hair, and once he'd become independent, it was even less of a necessity than before.

And the costume. Now that she saw his eyes, it wasn't a deception anymore to her; just truth. Painful, stinging truth that made her wish she could absorb shock much faster than she could.

It was a black bodysuit, with a heavy-looking utility belt to match. Two escrima sticks hung from the belt, and the intruder's chest heaved under the blue bird. Whether it was with emotion, exertion, or panic, Artemis didn't know. But she had to find out.

There were many things she had to find out.

She picked up the flashlight from where she'd let it drop. Then she reached out a hand to turn Dick's-as she saw now it could only be-face to her. A medical examination was in order here, and the first step was to find out if his eyes were dilated evenly. If they weren't, he had a concussion, which would require medical attention right away.

And she just wanted to see them.

...

Warmth burned and melted through the walls of ice inside of Dick's mind, and as he came to, he realized that there was something on his cheek. The heat was coming from there.

He tried to move his hand up to make whatever it was touching him stop, but he found that his arms were wrapped around his legs. His legs, which were drawn up to his chin...

_Who am I? _he inquired of his mind, but the information was locked away. He remembered something, far away... a memory just out of reach, a thought stored on the highest shelves of his mind.

And then there was a clicking, faint, like the opening of a door far down the hall from the guest room he used in Mount Justice.

Was that where he was?

Slowly, he began to realize that his eyes were already open, staring out at nothing. It was so dark...

Then, suddenly, blinding white light flooded the backs of his retinas. Finally regaining the use of his arms, he tried to lift one up to shield his face, but someone's hand grabbed it firmly and put it back down by his side.

He was too weak to lift it again, and he didn't even remember how to protest.

But he was slowly beginning to get his ability to think back. And now he was ransacking the corridors of his mind, searching every shelf and digging through every drawer.

_Who am I? _

He finally found the memories, and the body's mouth curved a little as he sorted through them, his mind gradually calming as the identities he found there became his once again.

_Dick Grayson. Former circus performer, parents dead, taken in by Bruce Wayne. Raised as the first Robin, became Nightwing at age eighteen, died in-_

_Wait! Died? _

What was he missing?

He suddenly remembered that something very, very bright was shining in his eyes. This time, though, he lifted both arms, crossing them in front of his eyes.

"Leave me alone!" he ordered, in a low, hoarse croak.

_I can talk! _He inwardly jumped up and down like a kid.

_Back to business... more memories now..._

_Young Justice. M'gann, Conner, Zatanna, Bart, Kaldur, Wally, Artemis..._

"Artemis!" The word burst out of his mouth before he knew it, his eyes suddenly focusing on the girl holding the light.

_She _was Artemis.

He returned to the recesses of his mind only briefly, rifling through stacks and piles of irrelevance before he finally reached it.

The last memories, the last few things he'd seen and heard, they were still there. He reached eagerly for them, and the scenes played over in his head once more.

He was in the Reach's ship. The team, all of them but for Artemis, who'd gotten separated from the team hours earlier, while they were still on Earth, were with him. They were tied down and their powers held back by the restrictive collars they wore. Zatanna wore a gag, so she couldn't say a spell to set herself free. Dick, Tim, and Babs, because they didn't have any powers for the collars to restrict, were simply pinned down by metal staples around their waists, legs and arms.

After that, he remembered Wally saying something to Artemis, using the holoscreen's com system.

And then he'd said, "Goodbye."

It must have been, because half a second afterward, there had been a tremendous impact, and it all happened far too fast for him to feel pain.

And then a violent jolt, almost like stepping through some kind of portal, an indefinable amount of time later. He'd been yanked back out here, and now here he was, fully intact and very much alive (as far as he could tell), and starting to, in a strange way that felt _really _twisted, feel the aster.

This girl-she had a long tail of blond hair hanging down her back, wore a simple pair of white pajamas, and had brown, concerned-looking eyes that appeared as if they'd recently recovered from anger and were beginning to tear up with something else.

It was Artemis all right.

"Why am I here, Artemis?"

The light returned to his eyes.

"That's really annoying."

She dropped the flashlight's beam, her face serious and eyes wide.

"You're alive." She looked down for a second, and he heard something splash on the floor before she looked up again. When she met his gaze, her eyes were brimming and about to overflow again.

"Thanks for the confirmation," he muttered, realizing that the words weren't as hard to get out as before.

"How..."

"I don't know."

"But you..."

"Died. Yeah. It's not as much fun as it's cracked up to be, being dead."

"Dick, you're _alive!"_

"Would you _stop _saying that already?" He stared back into her eyes, feeling a little, childish laugh restrict his breathing as it rose to the surface.

"But..."

She put her hands on his shoulders, gripping them to assure herself that it wasn't a hologram, or a psychic projection.

_He's solid. But I need someone else to confirm he's real._

Biting her lip, Artemis slowly stood, eyes still fixed on Nightwing. "I'm going to... call... someone."

Calling a League member-maybe Batman, seeing that he was family-never even entered her mind.

She kept her eyes on the body in the corner as she backed to the kitchen door.

She swung it open.

"Hey!"

**A/N: Not my favorite chapter. **  
**Oh well. I suppose that's the best you'll get for two updates in a day. **  
**Whoo! So that whole thing is out of the way now...**  
**Reviewing makes me really happy! I wrote this chapter because I got a review. :)**


	9. Tua Culpa

Jason was just settling down to sleep. The forest around him was eerily silent as usual, the pine and fir needles crunching and squeaking under his weight as he reclined against a tree for the night. Jason rarely slept flat against the ground when he was away from the old, run-down abandoned apartment he usually inhabited. It was too dangerous to sleep deeply, especially around someone as unstable as Artemis.

Sometimes, he wondered why he'd even taken up the task of training the girl. Perhaps it was because of her intellect and skills-anyone would be privileged to train her. Or maybe it was because they had so very much in common.

Pain.

Betrayal. Oh, such tremendous betrayal.

Rage.

Artemis was angry. Above all her other emotions, that one remained supreme. She wasn't grieving or guilty nearly as much as she was furious. There was so much she could have changed, but so much more that the League could have done something about.

Jason had had a chance to hear her musings sometimes, while she was in the kitchen, muttering to herself as she fixed dinner, or in the training room, cleaning up the mess she left in her wake after a particularly rough training session.

_How long would it have taken you, Superman, to fly up there and disarm the bomb? Or you, Martian Manhunter? _

_Or was it all a publicity stunt, to make the heroes martyrs in the public eye? It was the "world or the heroes" and you are still reaping the benefits of my choice. Because it was only really ever "world or the sidekicks." _

_It's only a matter of time before you all find new ones. And once the masks are passed on, the old heroes will eventually be forgotten. _

_After all, they were only the bodies that the suits wore. There never was any Wallace West, or M'gann M'orzz, or Richard Grayson. There was only ever Kid Flash, Miss Martian, Nightwing. The masks and suits were the only thing that carried any significance to the people. _

Suddenly, in the midst of his musings, Jason jerked awake. He was on his feet in a second and behind the tree, his over-sharpened reflexes pinning his arms tight against the bark as he instinctively reached for the gun in the holster attached to his belt.

Within another few seconds, he had relaxed his posture and turned, starting for the side of the cave where Artemis stood in the kitchen door. He took a cursory glance over the cave, checking to make sure no one was there. After all, Artemis could always be lying.

Jason trusted no one, and especially not one who had been under his training for as long as Artemis had.

"Jason," she simply said, her voice laden with relief. "I need... need..." By the time he reached the door, the Hood was thoroughly alarmed. "Need what?" he asked of Artemis, green eyes hard and somehow darker in the bleak ambiance of the fluorescent ceiling lights.

"Help," was all Artemis could manage, and Jason, no longer caring so much about the girl as what he'd find beyond her, pushed past her into the kitchen. The room was dark for the most part, but a flashlight had been dropped near a relatively large black object in the corner of the room. Jason made a beeline for the light, then dropped down on his knees as he realized what was caught in the flashlight's beam.

He swore, low and heavy, staring at the body before him.

Nightwing. He wasn't even wearing his mask; two unevenly-dilated, sick-looking blue eyes stared blankly out at nowhere. Jason slapped the side of his face, mostly to wake him up and partly to assure himself that he was real.

The boy jerked fully awake, fingers scrabbling weakly against the baseboard in an attempt to pull himself back and up against the wall. His eyes flickered deliriously around the room, then landed on Jason.

"No," he murmured, blinking twice in disbelief.

"I'm right here," said Jason, still staring at his older brother's face.

"You're not," Dick returned, closing his eyes. "You're dead and so am I."

Jason gritted his teeth. If Talia had a hand in this, _she _would be the dead one this time.

"Well, then so was Artemis, am I right?" The girl now knelt next to Jason on the tile, a few tears slipping from shocked eyes as she leaned against the older man.

He felt a little awkward with the former archer leaning against his shoulder, but as this situation was already awkward all around, he didn't shake her off.

_You're getting soft, _Jason inwardly scolded himself, but didn't take any action.

Dick didn't answer the question. He looked suddenly ten times more tired (which would be difficult for anyone else in his condition), and closed his eyes before letting his head roll to the side and his body slump against the wall.

Jason allowed himself a few seconds to let it sink in, then he turned to Artemis. "Um... you have a dead person in your kitchen. Any ideas on where to put him?"

...  
_Two Hours Later _

A voice, thin, feminine, swam through the fog in Dick's head.

"He's waking up," it said, but he couldn't seem to make sense of the words at first. He took a long moment to puzzle over them, and he cracked an eyelid to try and gain more of a sense of his surroundings.

_Cave... could be the Batcave. Probably is. Maybe Mount Justice._

Dick thought for a minute, trying to remember details. But he couldn't catch many from the place where he now lay, in a plain white-sheeted cot in a mostly dark room lit by a single bare bulb fixed to the center of the ceiling.

"Dick, can you hear me?" The question finally penetrated the fog, and Dick tried to nod in response. But his head was throbbing, and the slight movement only made it hurt more. He lifted both hands to his temples in an attempt to quell the ache, but an ice pack made it there before the tips of his fingers did.

Artemis was just sitting there, next to his bed; she looked frazzled and exhausted, her hair in disarray, eyes bloodshot, and face pale. Dick noticed someone near the door, and as his eyes came back into focus, he realized that it was Jason.

Somehow, the thought didn't surprise him as much as he thought it would. Perhaps the shock would come later. For now, he was numb... nothing could get to him in this state.

"Talk to me, Dick!" cried the girl, and he managed something in a low mumble.

"I'mfine... don'tworry..." the words were too low to decipher, but Artemis was happy that he at least had spoken.

"Do you need anything?"

Dick suddenly realized that his throat was dry as cardboard, and then his stomach and esophagus suddenly seemed to catch fire as he paid more attention to the state of his body.

"Water," he coughed, sitting halfway up in bed as he suddenly held his hands to his throat. It was sore; really sore. That, combined with the headache, gave the impression of a common cold, though Dick did wonder why it wasn't something worse. After all, he'd been dead only what must have been a few minutes ago.

Artemis grabbed a glass off the nightstand, then held it to Dick's lips while he downed the water.

Jason shifted positions near the door, wistfully glancing out toward the cave outside.

"Artemis, you might want to get Bruce," he suggested, his face twisting into a scowl as he said it. He'd have to leave before the Bat got here if they called him, but it didn't seem fair not to tell Bruce that his son was alive. Or something like it.

"I'm not calling him," Artemis declined. "If you want to, you can call him, but I don't think Dick needs any more shock right now."

As Nightwing (still in his suit but without the heavy, uncomfortable belt and escrima sticks, and still not wearing the mask) finished the glass of water, the room began to fade in and out around him. Artemis' voice grew fainter, then closer, then fainter again... someone else was talking to her but he couldn't remember who it was anymore.

And then it all went black for the second time.

**A/N: Yup, I probably published this too early...**  
**I know it's short. Sorry. :P But here you go! What do you think; will Artemis call Batman or not? **  
**Also, more characters will make an appearance in the next chapter or two. **  
**Please review! It really makes writing this worth it.**


	10. Splint

Jason sat in one of the two chairs next to the kitchen table, green eyes ringed with dark circles, but face decidedly sullen.

It had been three days since Dick had last opened his eyes. Artemis still kept her post by his bed, but Jason had gone to the training room to release his pent-up fury on the dummies there. When he'd run out of bullets, he had come here, and would never admit that he was here to worry.

After running through dozens (no, hundreds) of theories in his head, Jason had still come up with nothing. And that disgruntled him, because it wasn't often he was unable to find an explanation that satisfied at least himself if no one else.

He frowned as he heard a sound from next door. Artemis was usually very quiet around Dick, and he definitely wasn't making any noise in his current state.

So he scraped the chair back and stood up, taking one of the revolvers from its holster on his belt before he stepped out of the kitchen to go to the spare room where the noise had been coming from.

As he rounded the corner, he could see the source of the sounds. Dick was weakly struggling against Artemis, trying to get up from the cot. But she was managing to hold him down with a hand on each bicep.

That wasn't a good sign. Nightwing was strong.

Jason frowned.

"Let me go! I've got to get back to the team..."

As memory overtook Dick's mind once more, he slowly relaxed back into the mattress.

"Oh." The single syllable carried such defeat, such grief, such blank acceptance-Artemis couldn't help but wipe her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she awkwardly comforted, looking down. It was so strange to be comforting Dick, of all people, after what had happened to him.

Jason spoke up from the corner. "D'you need anything?" he asked of no one in particular.

Artemis turned to scowl at Jason. He scowled back and turned for the door, but Dick's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Jason?" Dick weakly put the question, his voice showing that he half believed it, half didn't at all.

"Yeah," the Hood managed, averting his eyes to avoid telling the truth.

"Come on. You're dead... your suit's still hanging in the cave."

"You actually believed that?" Jason's voice was sarcastic, incredulous.

Artemis cast him a look that said clearly, 'No time for tricks and pretending you were all heroic. Seriously, just _look_at him.'

Dick did indeed look horrible. Bloodshot eyes with dark circles under them, a face that was deathly pale otherwise, and a messed-up mat of black hair atop his head. Without the mask, watery blue eyes swam restlessly under half-closed eyelids. Artemis wouldn't be sure if he was awake, or somewhere in between a coma and a light sleep, were it not for the weak, monotoned words that barely stirred his bluish lips.

He managed to turn his head enough to give Jason a long stare. "I'm not going to argue, seeing as this just happened," he said, a spark of the old humor turning up one corner of his lips and weakly lifting a hand to motion to himself.

"Food?" asked Jason, the first thing he could think of. He didn't want to talk about how Dick came back, not right now. He'd deal with Talia later.

Once he had full confirmation of the guilt he was sure rested on her shoulders, for the second time.

"Yeah," whispered Nightwing, turning his head a bit to wryly smile at Artemis. "Food would be good right about now."

Jason nodded and ducked the low doorframe on his way out, combat boots ringing on the granite as he made his way to the kitchen next door. He knew how hungry dying and coming back again could make a person.

_I should. _

He smiled bitterly, eyes unfocusing as the last scenes of his old life and the first of the new played across the black pupils, irises green like seafoam. As the edge of his boot caught on the threshold between the kitchen and main room of the cave, he swore, catching himself with a hand on the doorframe.

_Concentrate, Jason. _

Once in the kitchen, the Hood put himself to work finding food. Easily eatable, digestible food... what would that be? He tried to think back, racked his mind for memories of what he'd eaten after coming back...

Another memory, a torn, rotted-through memory from the half-life he had lived until the second dip in the Pit. An involuntary shudder ran through him, then he set his jaw, allowing the usefulness of the memory to be the only thing that mattered. Blocking out the pain it brought.

He'd gotten good at that in the past six years, Jason thought as he rifled through the meagerly-stocked cupboards. Finally, his hand found something in a bag, something that squished like the spongy core of a rotten pine in the forest outside.

_Bread. _

It didn't take him long to get back to the room where Artemis was still huddled next to the bed, where the regular, even breathing of his brother filled the room with an uncomfortable silence.

It took effort not to shudder when he stepped into the room, then put the loaf of bread next to the bed, on the night-table where Artemis rested her elbows. He half-dropped a glass of water next to it, knowing Dick would need something to wash it down.

"Have a good one," with more than a touch of sarcasm in the gruff tone, and then he was gone.

Artemis glared in the direction of the door for a long time, but Jason didn't return. So she turned to the loaf of bread and the full glass, and reached for the knife she carried on her belt. She sawed off a slice, then held it out to Dick. "Eat up," she ordered.

The blue eyes, which had been closed while Jason went to the kitchen to fetch food, opened again, slowly. There was a little water rimming the lids, and to Artemis, it looked like it didn't come from drowsiness.

Dick managed a small smile.

A few long seconds passed, and the hand holding the bread out to Dick began to drop. "Are you still hungry?"

"Yeah," he said, frowning. It looked like he was concentrating... concentrating hard. "Sorry. Just having trouble..." he smiled again, a brief flash that looked more worried than reassuring. "...Arms. Can't move."

Dick's eyes widened a little, and though he tried not to show it in front of Artemis, she could see the fear rising. One of the things she'd always thought would hurt Dick the most-the inability to move.

But there was no use in letting the tension go on, so Artemis broke it. She put the bread down on the nightstand. "Can I help you sit up?"

It took a moment for Dick to nod, but he did.

Artemis wrapped one arm around her old friend's head, then the other around his back, supporting him. Who knew if he could hold up his head on his own, in this state, and it would hurt a lot if he banged it on the rock wall behind him. She slowly lifted him from the mattress, then propped up the pillow against the wall and released his head and back, eyes still watching him like a hawk for signs of discomfort.

The tensed jaw relaxed, and the ocean-blue eyes searched longingly for the food on the little table.

...  
_One Hour Later_

"Look, I want to tell him as little as you do. But it's what he needs right now." Jason's voice was low, insistent, and decidedly frustrated. It didn't usually take much to rile the Hood, and now was no exception.

"We can't just _call _Batman in here! He'll have the whole League on his tail, and then before you know it, Dick will be in some hospital, with reporters shoving mikes in his face and blinding him with camera flashes. _That's _exactly what he _doesn't _need right now."

The Hood bit his lip and spun away, heading straight for the zeta beam apparatus. There was a small communicator attached to the dialpad; he quickly dialed the Batcave's combination and spoke into the metal grate on the wall before Artemis could so much as open her mouth.

"It's Dick." Then he pushed the red button on the com's dialpad, not interested in hearing the answer, and strode off toward the opposite side of the cave, the echo of his boots dying out as they left the granite for the softer forest floor.

**A/N: Hope you liked! Please review, and I'm really sorry it took me so long to get this done.**


	11. Tensions

It was exactly three seconds from the time Jason's footfall changed that the zeta portal activated, sending a shower of golden sparks into the cave ahead of the black, ominous-as-ever form of the Caped Crusader.

"What happened?" he asked of the first person standing nearby, who happened to be Artemis. "And why was there a male voice on the com?" Artemis felt the Batglare boring right through her.

One would think the reflective lenses built into the cowl would prevent that, or that maybe she'd get used to it after a while, but it never lost its effect on anyone. She shuddered and turned toward the forest, hoping Jason could see her biting her lip. She was good at lying, but she wasn't sure that was the right thing to do in this case. The Hood might want to tell the truth, for once.

Jason swore under his breath, halting his steps and throwing his head back in frustration. He wasn't far enough into the forest to hide, at this point, and to be perfectly honest with himself, he was too tired of the ruse to keep it up. Batman had to know. It wasn't like anyone's knowledge, much less that of the secretive Bat, would impair Jason's crimefighting ability in the city... he _was_legally dead, after all.

"Okay, it was me," he said, slowly turning around and walking out of the forest, hands held to the back of his head.

"He's armed," remarked Batman, pulling a small, double-pronged electrical shock device from his belt and holding it out. Quick eyes under the cowl darted to the revolvers in the holsters by Jason's sides, quickly sizing up his possible opponent. The Bat's mind worked like that; a fast-moving computer that wouldn't hesitate to assume the worst.

And then Jason stepped into the flood of yellow cast by one of the strictly-functional lights fixed to the ceiling of the cave.

"Hello, Bats."

Batman was absolutely silent, carefully studying Jason's face. It would be understandable for him not to recognize the voice-it had been three years, after all, and something had changed in it after the Lazarus Pit. But the face-there was still the same look in the seafoam eyes, though none of the innocence. The same defiant set to the jaw, but common sense smoothing a little of the frown.

The same hair, red-brown that was hidden by the black dye that Jason still put in there for some reason, and the shock of white that fell half across his face to change it.

"You're clever." The voice was matter-of-fact, but Artemis could see him swallow under the cowl. "But impersonating my dead protege is not going to go over my head."

"I'm not impersonating, Bruce." Jason decided not to mince words. It didn't matter that Artemis would know Batman's secret identity now; he'd be surprised if she hadn't learned on her own already, in fact. "An impersonator wouldn't get the hair this wrong." He motioned to the shock of white, swallowing down the anger that had already begun to rise in his chest at the sight of the Bat.

"You could be using that excuse to get by with a bad costume," Batman said, voice still harsh, undecided. But Jason could hear a waver in it. He stepped closer.

"Ask Talia. She won't lie. Then tell me-" Jason paused, breathing heavily. He had to get himself under control. Dick needed help. He hated this, hated everything about this. The atmosphere in the cave suddenly seemed to turn to acid, and he shifted his feet as it burned at the side of his face, his nostrils, the scar he hid just under his hairline. _Calm down. _"Ask her about Dick, too," the Hood advised, swallowing harder against the acid. It was so, so very hard to do the thing he most hated, divert attention to the Golden Child, when all he wanted was to tackle the Bat and send a bullet into his skull.

"Dick? What have you done to him?" The cowled man slipped a batarang into his hand, ready to use it at a moment's notice as his eyes narrowed.

"Talia," Jason said, trying to sound bored and frustrated. He surprised himself with how good at it he was.

"Al Ghul. _Talia Al Ghul _resurrected me, Bruce." The Hood spoke slowly, painstakingly, as if to a very small child.

The batarang dropped on the floor with a clang, but Jason wasn't surprised. It was less than he'd expected from Bruce, as rude greetings went.

But the Bat didn't say anything, didn't move for a long time. He just stood there, taking it in, as the Hood was forced to assume. It was a lot to take in... but then again, Jason had had to 'take it in' not long before. That is, after he got his mind back in the Lazarus pit.

_Partly. _

This was too much. Waiting for the Bat to acknowledge his death, then running off to take care of Dick as was inevitable... he didn't need to do that. So Jason decided to retreat into the forest, as he always did when confronted by a problem bigger than himself which he didn't need to solve.

"Don't forget to take off the cowl before you go in to see him," he barked as he retreated into the woods, picking up the helmet from where he'd put it on the evergreen needles near where the rock floor started. He was shocked at his own politeness. Hell, he was shocked at the fact that he hadn't knocked the Bat out on sight. So many questions, and his would probably never find real answers, as usual.

It didn't take him long to put the helmet on and be off across the forest. But his vision blurred under the uncompromising face of the mask, and when he was sure he was far enough away from the others for them to hear, he collapsed against the prickly, uncomfortable trunk of a fir, drew his knees up to his face, and pulled the hood off, laying it beside him under the thick branches.

The trail of water that crawled down the side of his nose was foreign at first, but as many others joined it on his cheeks and eventually soaked the knees of his heavy jeans, Jason knew they were old enemies.

...

Artemis stood beside Batman for a while, allowing him to soak in the news and grieve a little. But she knew the Bat didn't have a healthy grieving process, and she'd have to interrupt it anyway, eventually, because Dick _was _laying, alive, in the room next door.

She coughed, softly. If the Bat didn't want to listen, she wouldn't blame him. But Dick needed help. She'd go back to the room on her own if the Batman didn't want to come, just yet. After all, she hadn't quite planned on his being here so soon.

Maybe it was better this way. Postponing it wouldn't have done anything, now that she thought about it.

The Bat turned to her, looking down. "I'm reluctant to remove my cowl," he informed her, voice ever so slightly apologetic. Artemis nodded, recalling the Bat Family's resistance to displaying their secret identities, even to team members.  
_Well, when there _was _a Bat Family._

"Dick's in here." She nodded in the direction of the door to the room, then started for it as soon as the Bat's feet shifted on the concrete.

The caped crusader wasn't far behind Artemis as she stepped up on the concrete that defined the line between the room Dick was quartered in and the rough rock of the cave floor. "I don't think he needs a hospital; he's not injured, really," she explained, worried that the Dark Knight would take offense at the fact that she had been caring for Dick herself.

Blue eyes focused on the Bat's cowl, and Dick frowned as his numb mind tried to make sense of the Dark Knight's appearance. It would make sense, considerably more sense than the appearance of the girl who had been taking care of him and his dead brother's strange willingness to help with it all.  
His dead brother's appearance at all. Absolutely _nothing _about the past two days made sense.

"Dick," this from a hoarse-voiced Batman.

"Bats," Dick returned, the corner of his mouth quirking a little. "Didn't expect to see me?" he murmured, searching eyes trying to find some expression under the mask.

Bruce gave the only answer any shell-shocked mentor-no, father, would have given in the space of a moment. "No."

"Me neither," the former Nightwing sighed. "But here we are." A pause, another sigh. "So is Jason." He figured the topic would bear discussion, maybe later, maybe now. But it did need to be kept in everyone's minds, at least. After all, Jason's 'transition' had been much harder, if judged by how vehemently he refused to talk about it. Neither Artemis nor he really knew exactly how it had happened, other than that it involved Talia Al Ghul in some way.

"How..."

"We don't know. Don't ask him," Artemis warned, already rising to the defensive. Strange, how protective she and Jason had gotten of each other in the past few months.

"What about you, Dick?" Bruce's voice was still more than a little unbelieving, but the face _was _the same, as Jason's had been out there in the cave.

"Don't know," he honestly confessed. "I don't know if any of the rest of the team made it out with me."

Artemis' lips suddenly parted, and her eyes widened. Her breath started coming fast, shallow.  
_Wally._  
Even unreasonable hopes had some grounds, what with Dick's return.

When Jason finally ran out of tears, he just sat there for a long time, huddled under the fir in a position he hadn't realized was uncomfortable when he came to sit there. But there were twigs poking into his back, and his hair kept getting more and more debris mixed into it every time he moved his head against the canopy of evergreen needles.

So he scooted out from under the tree, then slowly stood up, brushing off his jeans and then ruffling through his hair to make sure there weren't too many chunks or anything living stuck there.

_Stupid Hood. Crying is weak and doesn't help anyway, as you've learned. _

He swiped the back of one hand across his cheeks and set his jaw, heading further into the forest. But before he was able to take three steps, he heard something.

It was barely audible, something like a moan, or a very small cat making a very small sound in its sleep. But there weren't any cats here, and there weren't supposed to be _any _living creatures here at all, except for bats. Maybe it was an injured bat. One had been injured in flight back at the Batcave, and Jason still remembered begging Bruce for permission to keep it after he found it under the Batmobile. It hadn't lived long, but it had been the only pet Jason could remember from his childhood.

_I was twelve. _Hardly a child in his own mind, but a child enough to see something more broken than he and wish to take it in.

If only that had stuck.

But for now, he probably should go see what it was. After all, strange things had been happening in the cave lately... and Dick's appearance made him ready to credit almost anything.

As he stepped around a tree to pinpoint where the noise seemed to be coming from, his eye caught something laying on the ground next to his boots. It was small, black... shaped roughly like two diamonds with tiny white triangles fitted into their centers. Funny that something like that would be laying around out here... it almost looked like a mask...

As soon as that realization came into Jason's mind, his eyes suddenly took in the larger picture. It _was _a mask, on a face. And, badly discolored, torn and half covered in pine needles, a uniform stretched beyond it.

"Replacement," he whispered, and the masked face slowly turned to him.

"Help?"

**A/N: Hope you like! Also, sorry about the cliffhanger... not really...**  
**I'm sorry if Jason was OOC.  
**  
**Please review! I won't know people are enjoying the story if you don't leave me some feedback. :)  
**


	12. Intempestivus

**A/N: Warning: Graphic description of severe injuries in this chapter. Needles and pulses. Please use your discretion, as always.**

Artemis and the still-cowled Bat sat across from each other on opposite sides of Dick's bed, both trying to look calm as possible and both biting their lips raw mentally. Artemis, because she wasn't sure if Jason would have a psychotic episode the next time he saw either of them. Bruce, because he wasn't sure if Jason _was _a psycho, or if he was even alive. The Bat was like that; once he had absorbed a fact, it took a very, very long time to eradicate it from his mind, even if it was completely null and void.

But perhaps seeing one dead son, now alive and recuperating in the bed in front of him, made his mind more ready to accept the fact that his failure perhaps hadn't been complete. He had never thought to check the grave, because there was no logical reason for any kind of grave robber to steal Jason Todd's body. Robin's, yes. But, of course, he had no idea Ra's had any involvement with it at the time...

He sighed, resting his forehead in one hand. It had been a long day, spent swimming in a sea of reporters and wealthy businesspeople. After that, it had been almost a relief to get home and out on the streets in his costume, but it wore out quickly as he discovered that the crime rate had gone up instead of down.

It had been rising for a while now. With most of the League occupied with more important things, petty crime had gone pretty much unnoticed in the streets of Gotham and Bludhaven. Though Bruce didn't visit Bludhaven often, and usually for strictly _Wayne _business, he still looked out at the rooftops, scanned the gargoyles next to entrances for a flash of black and blue. Then he'd look back down at the ground, and remember that Jason was only his first failure; that he had lost three soldiers in the field now.

And now two of them were back. Dick apparently had no clear recollection of where he came from, though he remembered something that seemed like a psychic attack-and Jason knew _exactly _what had happened to him. He had been full of barely restrained rage out there in the cave, and Bruce couldn't help but heap more blame to himself because of it. He hadn't gotten there in time; hadn't done a _thing _about the Joker, and that was probably what made the always-hotheaded boy so angry.

_What about Tim and Barbara? _he briefly wondered, then dismissed the thought. Having two soldiers back was enough, and he wouldn't waste time wishing and wondering. Years of doing that, and staring at the empty Robin costume he kept in the cave, had taught him that it was useless.

"I'm still hungry," Dick piped up from the bed, voice a little weak. "Jason forgot how to feed me," he confided to Artemis, winking slowly, with effort. "Don't tell him," he whispered.

Artemis winked back, though it was partly because there was water gathering in that corner of her eye and the 'eyelash fell in my eye' excuse was getting old for everyone.

"What would you like?" asked Artemis, rising from her seat. The somber cowled figure across from her instantly followed suit, and she sighed. "Sit down, Bruce."

"Bruce?" he couldn't help but return, heart suddenly skipping a beat as it sped up. "Bruce wh-who?" He was usually calm when someone guessed at his identity, but he had the feeling that Artemis _knew. _After all, she'd been living right next to a Batkid for... he had no idea how long, but it was long enough for them to have some kind of mutual trust. And for either of them, that would have to be a while.

"Bruce Wayne. Sit down, and take off the cowl already. That's your son," Artemis said, voice biting a little, as she motioned to the former Nightwing. Then she changed the subject back to what was currently foremost in Dick's starved mind.

"Food, then."

Artemis nodded and was off to the kitchen in a matter of seconds. Her feet took her out the door quickly, and she was half glad to be out of the tense room. Let the Batfamily resolve its own disputes, she decided, drawing from her experience with the strange, closely-knit little group of mostly unrelated people.

She quickly took a box of cornflakes from one of the shelves in the kitchen, then took a bowl from a cupboard and put it down on the counter while she went to get the milk. As she opened the fridge, she basked in the cold for a moment, enjoying the feeling of the bright light and clean chill bathing her face.

Someone coughed to her right.

Artemis suddenly jerked upright, snatching the katana she kept on the counter (why, even she didn't know; maybe it was something like a security blanket for ninjas) and pointing it at the coughing man.

It was Jason. She relaxed for a second, then realized that he was carrying something in his arms. A little bundle of something. There were a few torn shreds of red, yellow, and black cloth fluttering out over the sleeves of Jason's leather jacket as he cradled whatever it was like a child.

Artemis didn't say a thing, simply dropping the katana back on the counter and moving closer. The cloth's color and state struck dread into her heart, and it took a moment for her to recall that Robin was already dead. It couldn't get any worse than it already was, so why was she panicking?

The former archeress took a shuddering breath and one step closer, and looked into the little bundle.

There was something buried inside it, wrapped in the shreds of red, black and gold. Something with a white face patched in red and purple, and a mask barely hanging on around eyes she could only assume were closed.

And the rest of the costume was ripped and torn, and sticking to ribs that poked out at awkward angles.

"Tim," she whimpered, suddenly filled with compassion for the little wraith. He'd had it far worse than Dick, she could see that much-and judging by the state of that jaw, wouldn't be talking about it for a long time.

"Give him to me," she ordered, and he half-gratefully, half-reluctanctly held Tim out to her, careful not to jar his ribs or back. Jason gritted his teeth as Artemis finally held the boy, then turned around to head for the door.

But before he could take one step, Artemis' voice stopped him.

"I know you hate Batman and company, but they _are _the only family you've got, and you'd better well stop talking to me about 'healing' and 'getting over it' if you can't start working towards healing yourself. Tim's not in any state to take a punch from you right now. If you must, save your anger for later." Her voice was surprisingly steady, even for herself, but maybe that was because she knew Jason needed someone stronger than him right now. Someone who could maybe help him see sense about the 'Replacement'.

It took Jason a little while to reply, but he finally turned around, green eyes narrowed to slits.

"They aren't my _family," _he spat, whirling around. His footsteps quickened as he left the room.

Artemis sighed, then her attention quickly shifted to the task at hand. Dick's food could wait; right now Tim was the highest priority on her list.

After laying him down on the table in the kitchen, she gently smoothed over the suit, doing a quick check to see how bad the damage was. There were a few places where bones poked against the skin, and a few places where they'd poked through, almost tearing the cloth. It made her cringe, but she was used to this sort of scenario and continued.

Artemis undid the clips on the front of the costume, then peeled the cloth away from the boy's body, gingerly picking around the forest of wounds both fresh and dried-over. It was even greater of a horrendous sight with the skin exposed, and she released a deep sigh she didn't realize she'd been holding when she finished pulling the costume away from Tim's arms. She quickly pressed a hand to the side of his neck.

"Artemis?"

The former archeress dropped the piece of shredded cape she had been holding in one hand, and the other returned to her side at the sound of the Bat's voice, calm and composed as usual, but obviously questioning what was taking her so long.

"Um..." she tried to think of a way to stall, then decided against it. After all, the Bat had considerably more medical training than herself, and Tim needed help more than Dick did right now.

"You need to see something," she called back, realizing as her eyes returned to the boy on the table how strange that sounded.

A whoosh of cape material and the muted sound of footsteps on the threshold, and Artemis turned to see the Bat standing in the doorframe, hunkered down so he wouldn't hit the top. "What is-"

His words stopped as if all air had suddenly left the room, and he silently crossed over to where the broken bird lay on the table. Artemis could see ten thousand nightmares playing out behind the white lenses in the mask, and she shuddered.

"I'm... sorry," she apologized. "He's alive," she clarified, hoping that was some reassurance. The grim set of the Bat's jaw didn't change; he merely scanned the boy's injuries and pulled something out of his belt.

"Painkillers," he explained as he lifted the boy's head a little and stuck a long needle-winged batarang into the surface of his neck. "If he wakes up, he won't know what he's feeling. We need to patch him up in the meantime."

Artemis glanced at the waste of broken ribs and shook her head. "How's he going to breathe?"

Another step was heard on the doorway. A harsh voice spoke, and Artemis was sure she could hear the rough tone disguising tears and anger.

"I think you need help."

**A/N: Sooo... there you go! Two chapters in one day.**

**Quick little side note: if you suspect that I'm having a field day with hyphenating words to make new ones, you're right as rain. :D I really apologize if that's annoying.**

**I apologize that Wally hasn't come into the story yet; I'm sort of basking in Batfam-ness right now. **  
**Please, please review and tell me what you think! **  
**Theories on how Dick and Tim survived, anyone? :D I'd be overjoyed to hear them.**


	13. Escalate

**A/N: **  
**Thank you SO FREAKIN' MUCH for the reviews, everyone. They were most of the motivation for this chapter. :)**  
**Warnings: The usual. Discretion. Please.  
**

The Hood didn't look at either of them as he entered the room, head down. Normally, he would have tried to kill the Replacement on sight, but this was different... this reminded him painfully of himself. He couldn't let the same thing happen to the boy that had happened to him; couldn't let him die without knowing that the Bat was indeed here, and that he _would _be avenged, even if it wasn't by the caped crusader.

He put a hand on Artemis' shoulder, pushing her away with a little more force than he intended.

Jason stared down at the Robin on the table, seafoam eyes unreadable as he scanned the injuries on the boy's torso and head. Bruce and Artemis waited with bated breath to one side, somehow waiting for his affirmation that Tim would be all right.

Finally, he took a deep breath, then turned to face Artemis. He didn't make eye contact with the Bat, mostly to avoid punching his mask to shards within a second. Rage and indignation still rose like a red mist before his eyes whenever he so much as glimpsed the Batman, but the time for punching and bone-cracking was later.

"I don't think he's going to make it," he confessed, casting a quick glance over one shoulder to make sure he hadn't completely overestimated the damage. But there it was; Tim would be unable to breathe as soon as he woke up, no mattter how many painkillers they gave him.

"You could try life support in a hospital, but I was once like this," his voice grew low toward the end of his sentence, and he looked down, swallowing, "and I was on my way out well before the bomb."

"We're going to get a medical opinion," Artemis announced, hope and fear sparking in her eyes at the same time. Jason only shook his head, eyes suddenly soft. "I'm sorry."

And then he was gone out the door again, and the Bat and the archeress were left with the broken Robin.

Batman scooped the boy up, bundling him in the shreds of his cape so he wouldn't be injured further. Then he walked to the door, steps decisive and cape snapping behind him. Artemis couldn't identify what was going through his head, but she was sure the worst nightmares of his career after Jason's death were coming true. For this to happen to Tim...

She stood in the main room of the cave, watching, as the Dark Knight carried Tim into the zeta portal and activated it. In a second and a burst of light, they were gone.

Artemis turned as she heard footsteps on the stone behind her.

"He's not going to make it," Jason repeated, voice dull, empty. As Artemis turned around, she could see that though anger brought a little life to his eyes, he looked now just _tired. _

"Why couldn't he have done that much for me?" he asked.

"You were already dead when he got there."

"He could still have done _something, _to avenge me, if not to help."

"You know his rule," Artemis gently reminded.

Jason was silent for a long moment, and then he turned around and disappeared into the forest again.

She sighed and headed for the kitchen. She knew _she, _for one, wouldn't be able to eat after seeing Tim, but Dick had been through a lot himself. He needed food.

...

A thin beam of natural light spiraled down into the cave far into the darkest caverns, and in that beam of light could be seen something, descending into the darkness of the forest like a spider on a thin strand of web.

As Artemis exited the kitchen, bowl of cereal in hand, brow furrowed as she thought about Tim, she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of one eye.

Gray eyes narrowed; scanned the landscape, and Artemis didn't pick up any movement-but wait, there was something, just for a second, in the beam of light. A branch snapped far off in the forest, and she made a mental note to keep her eyes peeled and tell Jason to do the same.

She entered the room where Dick was lying, setting the bowl on the nightstand before sitting down in the chair next to his bed. It squeaked under her weight, and the bluebird turned his head at the noise. "Food?" he hopefully croaked, and Artemis nodded and forced a smile, helping him sit up against the headboard. There really was no reason for him to know about Tim's state. It wouldn't be anything new to hear that he was dead, and it wasn't worth getting his hopes up to tell him he was alive. Because that probably wouldn't last for long.

Dick reached instinctively for the bowl, and surprise sparked in the cerulean eyes. "Well, looks like I've got the arms back," he remarked, and shoveled the first bite into his mouth before switching his gaze to Artemis' face. She felt almost uncomfortable, knowing she wouldn't be able to hide her worry for much longer.

The former Nightwing was on his sixth bite when Artemis suddenly bit her lip, looking down as she blinked hard to keep her feelings from showing on her face. She had never been this much of an open book before, but then again, she'd never had a member of her team twice dead before. As Tim inevitably would be.

He suddenly put his spoon down in the bowl and moved it to the nightstand, and his face was serious. "What's wrong, Artemis?"

"It's just-" she bit her lip again. Normally, she'd say 'nothing', but she was so, _so _very tired of lies.

"Just..." Nightwing prodded, voice gentle but urgent at the same time.

"T-someone's dying, and I don't know what to do. I don't want to bother you, not in your situation."

Dick made a face and pulled the covers aside, slowly standing up next to the bed, but heavily leaning on the arm of Artemis' chair for support. She was out of it in a second, and her hands were on Dick's shoulders. "Oh no, you don't. I'm not having another-" she stopped herself just in time, licking her lips. "I've got to go."

And then she was gone out of the room, leaving Dick to obediently lay down until her footsteps told him she was out of hearing range, and then get up and hobble toward the doorway. Something was up, and he was determined to know what. Besides that, he had no 'injuries' to justify his staying in bed, just a strange, pervading soreness that seemed to rub his joints raw every time he moved.

_I'll get over it. Now to find out what's wrong with Artemis._

As he rounded the corner, he suddenly came face-to-face with a young woman of a little more than average height, wearing a gray catsuit that somehow set off the red-brown hair flowing from behind her full-face mask perfectly. Dick sucked in a brief, shocked breath, then shook his head, reminding himself that Babs was dead like the rest of his team. He still hadn't recuperated enough to take it in properly, and to be perfectly frank with himself, wasn't sure he ever would.

_Should. _

He'd spend the rest of his life grieving, or so he feared, if he ever really believed the team was dead. That his family, all but for Bruce, was dead.

Bruce, who'd left his side anyway for something more important.

The cat-suited woman drew his attention back to the present with a snap of her gloved fingers. "Wake up, handsome!" The bluebird could swear he saw the woman's lips curl in a grin under the gray cloth of her mask.

"Got anything on you?" She scanned his semi-hospital attire, shaking her head. "Doesn't look like it. Well, I haven't got much time, so I just want to say sorry in advance, from the bottom of my heart. And may I compliment you; you've got lovely eyes and the most _dashing _hair, even when it's messed up. You have a very handsome face too, but that could change." She shrugged, then suddenly brought up one arm from her side and angled for the former Nightwing's head.

Dick, his reflexes numbed by the soreness in his limbs, only had half a second to watch as a gray-gloved fist traveled toward the side of his face, and then the world shook, flipped on its side, and went black.

**A/N: This chapter wasn't that great... I think I need to take a break before writing the next one. **  
**Sorry about the cliffie, guys! And no, I'm not introducing an OC.**  
**As always, reviews not only make me happy, but they keep me writin' away. :D**


	14. Reactio Catena

**Warnings: A stronger warning here than for the last chapter. Considerably. There are swords, blood and a load of angst. So use your discretion **_very _**carefully, please. I don't want to trigger anyone.**

When Dick awoke, it took a long time for his eyes to open. At first, he was stuck in that sweaty, uncomfortable state between sleeping and waking, the kind that you had when you'd been knocked out instead of going to sleep on your own. And his head was throbbing-worse than before. He vaguely recalled a gray fist, headed for his head...

Red hair, flowing from the back of a full-face mask the color of stormy skies over Gotham. And a smile, curled under that mask, sarcastic but familiar.

Far too familiar. He suddenly jerked upright from the bed where he was laying, and opened his eyes. At first, all he saw was black. Then it materialized into thin, even black threads woven into an equally thin, even fabric, stretched in a tight band across his eyes. He tugged at the ropes holding his hands together, and then his feet-and they didn't budge. Dick grit his teeth, frustrated already.

This grey-suited cat burglar, whoever she was (his mind refused to compute that she actually _was_ who she reminded him so strongly of) was good. Really good. Anyone skilled enough to tie Nightwing up and keep him down, even when he was in a state of lowered awareness and strength, had to be very good at what they did.

He finally stopped struggling and lay back, able to feel that the sheets under him were soft and still warm. So this was probably his cot in Artemis' cave, with any luck. Unless he had been out for much longer than he estimated.

...

Artemis heard a dull thud from the direction of Dick's room, but chose not to follow it. Just now, she needed to go to Tim.

She stepped into the zeta beam and punched in the coordinates for the Batcave without looking, well knowing that was the first place the secretive Bat would take any of his children if they were in Tim's state.

She waited. Thirty seconds passed without any sound from the portal, and finally, Artemis frowned and looked down at the dialpad. Maybe she had typed something wrong.

Her mouth dropped open a little, eyes widening, as she saw that there were a few wires hanging loose from the dialpad's stand. "Crap."

So maybe there was a little more to that branch snapping in the forest than she'd given it credit for. Maybe she should go check on Dick. But first, she would need backup.

Artemis cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled. "Hey!"

There was no response. The forest was silent, and then there was a rustling in the trees. Artemis had only a second to be relieved. The person now standing on the cave's stone floor wasn't Jason. She was tallish, with a lot of red hair flipped over one shoulder and a featureless gray mask. She had something slung over one shoulder-something heavy, large, and wearing combat boots. Suddenly, Artemis' heartbeat sped up, irregular and fast as she realized what it was.

"Jason!" she cried, then started backing into the kitchen. She could find the katana without looking, if the cat burglar didn't try to stop her. And she couldn't, unless she dropped the body she was carrying on the concrete.

"What did you do to him?" Artemis demanded.

"The same as any other cat burglar would have," came the words, sarcasm clear in them. The voice was familiar, and with it came a rush of sadness-Artemis didn't know why, because she couldn't quite place who the voice belonged to.

The cat burglar released the arm with which she held the combat-booted man to her shoulder, letting Jason's body thump onto the stone. As he landed, Artemis could see in the light from the overhead lights that his face was covered in a slick, still-wet layer of red. The Kevlar of the jacket he habitually wore was also stained, at the stomach, but he wasn't moving. Her panicked eyes instinctively flitted to his chest, to see if it was moving-but she couldn't tell from here. Or at least that's what she told herself, to avoid losing her cool instantly.

First Tim, now this. And on top of it all, she had no idea where Dick was, really, and there was a burglar in her cave.

The girl stepped away from the limp Hood, pushing him aside with one black-booted foot. "Where do you keep your valuables?" she asked, voice suddenly businesslike.

"And I'm telling you because..."

"It's not very hard for me to hurt you. As I'm sure you can see," she simply stated, holding up the belt she'd taken off Jason and slung around her own arm, showing off the two empty revolver holsters. "He didn't have much on him. But I'm well armed now." She held out one of the guns and motioned with it to the kitchen, where she must have assumed the valuables were hidden. Experience had taught her that when challenged, most people instinctively gravitated to the place in the house where they kept what they considered most valuable. "Come on, out with it. I don't have a lot of time."

Artemis couldn't help but smirk, in spite of the fact that she was more than a little scared, and her dread that Jason wasn't actually breathing at all had turned to a metallic taste on her tongue. She'd had enough training with the katana in the past few months to take anyone down, she was sure.

But did she want to use lethal force? Something about the girl reminded her of someone she'd lost. But the will to survive was stronger in Artemis' long-embittered heart than the instinct to save others, just now. And she didn't even know the cat burglar, not really. Besides that, if she was Barbara, she'd never have hurt Jason.

...

Tim awoke to a strange, disembodied feeling, as if his brainwaves had finally disconnected from his body and he was no longer in control. Because none of it was sending him any messages. He had gotten so used to _messages_ in the past few days-pain, aches, more pain, unconsciousness beating in at the corners of his sanity.

And yet he somehow found the leverage, the muscle, the energy, somewhere deep inside of him to open his eyes. It took a very, very long time-like pulling an old garage door upward after it hadn't been used for many years. And when he had them open, there was a strange light, stinging at the backs of his eyes (feeling at last!) and sending a knifing headache deep into his skull.

There was something leaned over him, blocking out the light, on one side. It was black, looming, almost enigmatic at first sight... but there was something familiar about it. His foggy brain couldn't place quite what, but there was some degree of comfort in knowing that there was _something _he remembered here. Memory, in the small snippets that he caught it, was so precious.

Voices, rising, he thought, at the sight of his eyes opening. But he couldn't keep them open for long. The lids kept fluttering, and finally he gave up and closed them. The sounds and the pricking, throbbing feeling in his head subsided to make way for the darkness that followed.

...

Artemis concentrated as she backed into the kitchen, carefully pinpointing the exact location of her katana in her mind. It felt good, the superiority. And it was true that she was better with a katana than most people with a gun. No, not most people. Jason. And that was saying something, considering that he used revolvers as his primary weapon.

She suddenly hit the right point on the grid she'd built in her mind, and her hand shot out to the right, grabbing the weapon and then returning to hold it in front of her, leveled at the girl.

The cat burglar snorted.

Artemis snorted back, tossed the katana a few feet ahead of herself, driving the tip into the wood of the cutting board on one of the counters. Then she dove forward into a double flip straight for the intruder. Before the cat burglar had time to duck, she'd landed both feet in her face and retrieved the sword from the counter, then pointed it straight for the girl's heart. She kept her arms pinned securely to both sides, and the girl seemed strangely thin and her muscles were far less toned than Artemis had expected from such a skilled burglar.

"I should kill you," she mused, and took note of the girl's heavy breathing, the way the eyebrows drew down under the mask in anticipation of the blow.

"But first, I've got to know who you are." She grabbed the front of the girl's mask and roughly pulled it away from her face.

And then she dropped the katana, nearly falling backward and losing her grip on the girl's arms, at the sight of her face.

"Batgirl," she whispered, voice broken. "No. You couldn't..."

At least now she knew exactly what to do with the intruder.

Artemis grabbed the sword again, but this time she held the handle right next to the cat burglar's head. The girl winced, but tried to keep her face composed. And Artemis brought the hard leather-wrapped handle down hard, on the side of Batgirl's head.

She finally sat back, panting. This had exerted her far more than it should have, simply because of the intruder's identity. But how... how had Barbara gotten into this? How had she done that to Jason?

..._Jason. _

Artemis stood up abruptly, scrambling for the door. She ran to the man splayed on the concrete, then skidded to her knees on the rough stone, uncaring of the pain it caused her. Her hands worked fast, undoing the fastenings of his Kevlar jacket and then using the knife she kept fastened to her belt to cut away the shirt underneath. If the Kevlar was bloody, the shirt was completely dyed red. Artemis bit her lip to avoid vomiting at the sight.

When she finally had finished removing all the cloth on Jason's torso, her eyes scanned it quickly to assess the injuries. There was only one, really; a few bruises and a cut on his forehead, but only a straight-on knife thrust could have gotten through the Kevlar. And, as she gently wiped away the pooling blood so she could see better, she recognized the tidy mark that a knife plunge had made. It must have been deep, to have this much blood on everything.

She carefully cleaned the blood away from the rest of his chest. It wasn't looking too bad, considering Tim's earlier condition. But still, a stomach wound was not to be taken lightly. And after losing this much blood, anything could happen.

Artemis quickly focused her attention on the stomach wound. The head wound had bled a lot, but it wasn't doing so anymore. Just now, she felt she simply had to call for backup. But how would they get there? The zeta tube wasn't working, and the only other way into or out of the cave was through a series of complicated tunnels at the other side of the main cavern. Or through the top; the less conventional route that Barbara had chosen.

Artemis still didn't believe it. Or didn't want to. "Then there's Dick," she murmured to herself, and promptly took a strip of the shirt she had cut off Jason and wrapped it tightly around his middle, to avoid further bleeding. She then took him by under the arms and started hauling him toward one of the rooms, wincing every time his back hit a bump on the stone. If she had the strength, she would have thrown him over one shoulder like Babs. She must have been unnaturally strong... which was strange, considering how little muscle volume she had had.

Finally, Artemis made it into one of the rooms and pulled the heavy body up onto the bed. She was reluctant to leave him alone-but she had to go to the kitchen, get medical supplies and make sure the cat burglar stayed 'out' for another few hours. She had some chloroform spray, but she hadn't had it on hand right away.

By the time she finally returned to Jason's side, he was beginning to wake up.

**A/N: I'm sorry for all the angsty-ness...**  
**Please review if you liked it (or if you didn't, of course)! And please tell me which member of the team you'd like to see next; I'm listening!**


	15. Red Bird Flies

**A/N: Warnings: Same as last chapter. Go read 'em. **  
**Two seconds of your time.  
Seriously.**  
**Yes, I know I'm paranoid. **  
**Enjoy!  
**

As Jason began to stir, his eyes fluttered open a little, long lashes rimming eyes more blue in the stark overhead light than green. He squinted a little, getting his bearings...

Suddenly, the Hood sat bolt upright from the cot where he had been laying, immediately doubling over, clutching his stomach as the pain hit. "Wha-what happened?" he wheezed, watery eyes finding Artemis' face.

She swore softly and gently pushed his head back down on the pillow. He gasped again as the skin around the cut in his abdomen stretched, and swore in his turn, but not nearly as softly as Artemis.

The former archeress gently stroked Jason's forehead in an attempt to calm him, smoothing back the stubborn shock of white hair that never wanted to stay out of his face. "You'll be okay, if you stay put," she murmured, voice soft, like a mother's.

Jason scowled, then grimaced as another wave of pain wrapped fingers of fire around his lower ribs and abdomen. Artemis brushed the hair back from his equally-white forehead once more, frowning in concern as she was reminded of the fact that he'd lost a good deal of blood. So many things to worry about...

"Look, I've got some other pressing things to attend to. But you'll have to stay here, and if you move, so help me," she made a jabbing motion with her hand. "I will not hesitate to use pain-inducing measures to get you back into bed." The Hood frowned and craned his neck to watch as she left the room, vaguely wondering why she thought using pain to fix pain would do anyone good. But he was too weak to stand up anyway, so he lay his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes against the harsh light.

Artemis stepped out of the room, then made her way to Dick's room, increasing her pace to a fast jog, then a run, as she allowed her worries to take control. She only hoped he hadn't ended up like Jason-and she felt horribly guilty about leaving him alone, although she couldn't help but recall that there had been both a very dangerous catburglar in the kitchen and a very hurt Red Hood outside, and she had been the only one there to take care of them both.

Her heart jumped to her throat as she rounded the corner to see the former Nightwing sitting blindfolded on the edge of his bed. He started to stand, but wasn't steady on his feet and unable to use his tied arms for support, and she pursed her lips in frustration and dashed across the room toward him.

"Are you injured?" she asked, though she doubted he was hurt badly, if he was trying to stand up. Dick had some common sense, even if it wasn't prevalent in all cases.

"One heck of a headache, but nothing else. Can you get these off?" he asked, weakly pulling at his tied hands and giving a grin as apologetically as he could manage without his eyes visible.

Artemis quickly cut the black cloth holding his hands together, and he quickly pulled off the mask as soon as his hands were free. The blue eyes underneath wandered for a second, and he screwed them shut against the sudden light, then blinked as they adjusted. "Thanks."

Artemis nodded, then bit her lip. Dick needed to know about the cat burglar in the kitchen.

"Um, did you get knocked out by a girl in a gray suit?" she gingerly asked, her thoughts skipping again to the fact that Babs would have to be tied up to prevent her from hurting anyone else. She had been such a good soldier-had her coming back caused this about-face? It was painfully reminiscent of someone else's past, someone else who was living in the cave and now lay with a weakened heart pumping only half the blood it normally should have.

"Yeah," he simply said, looking down. "You got her?"

"I did. And Dick, I think you should know... I don't think coming back was as easy for some other people as it was for you."

He jerked his head up again, forgetting the headache as his heart jumped to his throat. "No."

"I'm sorry. But I have to go make sure she can't get away, and you need to stay in bed." Artemis turned to walk toward the door, but she didn't really expect Dick to stay. He'd come, and to be perfectly honest with herself, she would appreciate the support. She felt a little like an overburdened nurse with all the visitors to her cave, and besides... every time she thought of Tim, she nearly lost her calm facade and burst into tears. And she felt almost guilty every time she wished for him to be completely well, because he _was_alive, after all, and what more was she asking for?

As anticipated, heavy, unsure steps were quick to follow hers out the door.

...

Five minutes, several ropes around Barbara's limp hands and feet, and another spritz of chloroform later, and Artemis led the way to Jason's room. She was getting a little anxious by now; there hadn't been a sound from the room all the time she was gone. Not that she expected one, of course. Jason was far too much of an 'I'll-take-care-of-myself' type of guy sometimes.

Dick had wanted to pick up Babs and carry her out with him, but Artemis strongly forbade it. He was barely strong enough to keep himself upright just now, and Artemis was not going to carry the cat burglar for him. She, quite frankly, had no idea what to do with her. But maybe she would give a better explanation for her return than the others had, once she regained consciousness.

For right now, Artemis was grateful for the chloroform. Jason needed to be tended to, and badly. She didn't really know what to do about the loss of blood; if his condition worsened, though, she swore she would find _some _way to get him out of the cave.

Sometimes, her mind wandered to the possibility that there were more members of the team alive. Somewhere, perhaps, and they might be as badly hurt as Tim and dying in some far-off desert, and she would never know. All they would know was that they would die a second time, and once again, there was no one to save them.

That sent sharp spears of pain to Artemis' heart, but she had to bite her lip and drive the thoughts away to keep her composure. Right now, she had her own 'team' to care for.

And then there was Tim.

Her vision blurred with tears for the smaller bird as she neared Jason's bedside; the only vaguely discernible features were the bandage tightly wrapped around his abdomen, rapidly soaking through with blood from the Hood's renewed efforts to stand, and the strange way that his signature white streak didn't contrast with his face anymore.

...

Tim awoke with a start, full awareness returning to him with a sudden jolt. The world, so unfamiliar after spending what seemed like a lifetime _out, _was, for a brief moment, fully in-focus and understandable. There they were; Bruce, Alfred, and someone whose face he did not recognize-maybe that was because of the surgery masks that he; all of them, in fact, wore. Bright overhead lamps, fluorescent and shining brightly into what must have been darkness in the rest of the room, somehow didn't blind his eyes right away.

In his staggered new sense of time, Robin's mind worked much faster than usual. And he could see it all again-the amnesia, the stumbling around in an alley he didn't even know until he got caught by someone much faster and much more present in mind than he, how she had stolen his belt and run away, and how he had been left in the alley, shivering and crying into his own blood until he managed to make it to the nearest park. And then, when he'd been sitting next to a stream, trying desperately just to _remember, _he had fallen.

From there, Tim recalled next to nothing-a pair of combat boots approaching his eye level, someone picking him up, and then his mind drew a blank. So it returned to his situation, and he vaguely tried to assess it, but failed... something was standing in the way of his normal thinking faculties.

It took only half a second for the people leaning over him to notice that his eyes had opened. And as soon as they gasped, suddenly turning their attention to his head, the pain hit.

It was like a train, crushing his ribcage and beating it to a pulp. He heard screaming from somewhere outside of him, and his ribs screamed back, involuntarily arching his back. He heard something he hadn't noticed before; a rapid, almost panicked-sounding beeping coming from what must have been a heart monitor behind him. But he scarcely had time to consider what was happening to the beeping, because the screaming-oh, would it never stop, it was so very loud-grew louder and louder until it seemed as if it would cave in the sides of his head.

And then his arched spine collapsed back on the surgery table, and the world disappeared by bits and pieces, leaving one last image to fade slower than the others: the silhouette of a man's face against too-bright lights. He was mouthing something, but the words didn't make any sense, and he couldn't hear them very well anyway. Tim felt something wet on his cheek, a strange, cooling contrast to the burning of his entire body, and then the screaming stopped and he let out a sigh of relief as the frenzied beeping of the EKG became one long, loud sound.

**A/N: Don't kill me, please! **  
**And if you're confused, please understand that you're supposed to be at this point in time. :) Go commiserate with the Artistic Jaybirds. (hey, wouldn't that be an awesome band name for Artemis and Jason?) XD **  
**Please review! And guess away at who's coming next. I already have a scene in mind. :) **


	16. Evaporate and Condense

**Warnings: Same as last chapter, and the chapter before that. Please just skip back two chapters to read it. **

At first, it was a whimper in the quiet, dark forest.

Then, it slowly became a low, regular keening, like that of an animal shot through with an arrow and left to die before the hunter returned for its prey.

And then came a word.

"Gar?"

...

"Stay here! Tim, wake up!" Bruce's cries were ineffectual. The boy's eyes rapidly drifted shut as his back relaxed onto the steel, and his mouth dropped a little open, one corner of the lips twitching upward in a relieved expression as the heart monitor's sound steadied to a uniform, loud _beep._

The doctor standing next to the bed grabbed the shock pads next to it, and put them on opposite sides of Tim's injured chest.

"One," he counted, then activated the shockers. The body remained limp; Tim's head lolled to one side.

"Two."

Bruce bit his lip, and Alfred looked down at the floor.

"Three."

The doctor put the shock pads back down on the tray of instruments, and then quickly put the stethoscope in his ears and listened carefully for Tim's heartbeat, then put the stethoscope away and held the boy's wrist, counting to thirty under his breath. When he finally looked up, his eyes were serious, apologetic. He put a hand on Bruce's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne."

...

Artemis immediately moved to care for Jason's stomach wound, shooting him a dirty look before continuing on with her business. She swallowed the worries about Tim rising in her chest and focused on the task at hand.

Dick stood a few feet away, resting most of his weight on the chair next to the cot. He held a hand to the side of his throbbing head while he took stock of Jason's wounds.

"How did you get that?" he asked, alarm sparking in his eyes as he saw just how much blood there was.

Jason wryly chuckled, suddenly cringing as the half-bitter laugh brought pain back to the stomach wound. "Creepy lady," he forced out, falling back onto the pillow and closing his eyes as Artemis carefully pulled away the soaked bandage. "In a gray catsuit."

The former Nightwing looked down, trying his best not to let the tears escape that were threatening at the backs of his eyelids. How that was Babs in the suit, he had no idea... and he, quite frankly, wasn't ready to believe it yet.

The Babs he knew would never have done that to anyone.

...

Alfred left Bruce to stand by Tim's bedside while he left the room to find the pay phone in the lobby. Artemis would want to know... and maybe, just maybe, Jason would as well.

He quickly dialed the number, then held the phone to his ear, waiting while it rang. There seemed to be an infinite silence, and the old butler's every breath seemed to draw out into a wail. Alfred never cried-at least not in front of the family. But he could remember many times when he lay awake worrying for the family that had been his since Bruce was born, and some of those times something wet had touched his cheeks.

He didn't cry now, because Bruce needed him not to cry.

It took a moment for Artemis to pick up on the other end of the line. "Hello?" she asked, confused as to why someone was calling her. Even sales calls were rare, anymore.

"It's Master Tim."

Artemis instantly knew, but she didn't believe it right away. She shifted her grip on the phone to accommodate for her shaking hands. "How is he?" she asked, mechanically. Because she knew already.

"He flatlined upon waking up." Alfred's tone was unusually flat, emotionless. He had always had to be stronger than the rest of his family; stronger than those who grieved and those who allowed their sorrow to define them. Like Bruce.

The former archeress decided there was no reason for her to hear more. It was just too painful; far too painful when she was in Alfred's place to three people already. This was no way to make oneself stronger.

"Goodbye, Alfred. I have my own to care for now." She hung up, and the old butler on the other line merely put the phone down and went back into the hospital room. There was no one else to call; everyone else already knew Tim was dead and him dying a second time would hardly be either believable or a shock.

...

Another voice, quieter than the first, and younger, echoed in the forest.

"M'Gann?"

**A/N: And so I leave you on a cliffie, my dear readers. *bows* **

**I'm not holding the next chapter for ransom (because I'm waiting for it a lot like you), but reviews are always appreciated and they help me with motivation. :) **


	17. Viridian

**Warnings: Not quite so bad for this chapter, though of course there's grief.**

"Tim's gone."

The words were a whisper meant for only the Red Hood's ears, and Jason didn't flinch as he took in the news. It was only to be expected. But somehow, he didn't feel the satisfaction he had anticipated at the Replacement's death. Somehow, there was a new sense of emptiness... an emptiness he had been sure before that it could not become any deeper.

Perhaps it was complete now. Then the next hole put in his life wouldn't hurt as much. Hell, this shouldn't have hurt at all... especially after his own death. The Replacement deserved what he got.

Or did he?

Jason's uncomfortable musings were cut short as Dick spoke up, concern in his voice. "What did you tell him, Artemis?"

Her eyes were instantly riveted to the floor, and Dick's eyes widened in their turn, alarmed. "What did you tell him?" he repeated, more urgently this time.

She sighed; a defeated sound. A sound that, two years ago, would never have found occasion to escape her lips.

"Tim. They tried to save him... but it was too late."

Dick gave her a strange look. Perhaps she had amnesia and couldn't remember that all the team but her had died in the explosion.

"But... why is that surprising?"

"He came back," Artemis quickly explained, understanding his confusion.

Dick just nodded, but when he lifted his eyes to Artemis' face, water was already filling the lower lids and forming rivulets on his cheeks. He'd always been a softy compared to Jason, as she was forced to remind herself when the sight of the tears surprised her.

"I don't think he suffered for long," she awkwardly tried to comfort him, putting a hand on his shoulder and forcing her own tears down once more.

Suddenly, the scene was interrupted by a quiet cough. Jason turned his face to the door before anyone else in the room did, and the already-white color of his skin turned to grey. "You're... you're kidding me."

There were three people standing in the doorway, with a few more crowded behind them. They were standing haphazardly, uncomfortably; a few were holding their sides, and one or two pressed a hand to their heads and leaned against the door. But that wasn't the shocking thing about them.

They were the Team.

What was left of it after Tim reappeared and died, that is. They were all there; from Roy to Gar to M'Gann, who held her adoptive little brother's hand to help him remain standing.

All but Wally, as Artemis' quick eyes noticed. But she was too shocked in the moment to see them all _alive _to wonder what had happened to him.

Jason sat up without regard of the wound in his stomach, managing to bite the pain down for long enough to stare at the people standing in the doorway. They stared back, but he was too surprised to feel self-conscious about the shock of white now accenting his otherwise dark head of hair.

_Why is it so dark?_

_ Where am I?_

_ Where's Artemis?_

A string of disconnected, not quite coherent thoughts ran through the redhead's mind as he began to wake, but it took what seemed forever for the life and feeling in the center of his body to spread to the rest of himself, like a butterfly's wings unfolding and unwrapping for the first time.

He pushed the palm of one hand against the ground in an attempt to raise his upper body; he slowly blinked as the world came into focus. He was in a dark alley, and rain pattered lightly on the cracked, dirty pavement all around him.

Emerald eyes suddenly widened as he recognized what a filthy patch of earth he was sitting on and that he was leaning against a rusty waste bin, and the speed returned to his feet within a second of the comprehension that rushed to fill his mind. And yet, he couldn't seem to remember anything. The last few months were a completely blank slate in his head, just like that time in Bialya when he had awakened with Artemis by his side.

Except this time there was no Artemis.

He felt a dull throbbing in his feet and his chest, and something strong, mystical seemed to pull him away from the alley. He left it by the back way, then slowly made his way down a deserted sidewalk behind the run-down buildings where he had found himself, and into a nearby, equally run-down little park. There was a little stream there; maybe that's where the pull was coming from.

For one minute, he scolded himself for allowing the mystical feeling to lead him here, then he reminded himself that now was no time to be wary of magic. For all he knew, it could be something in the Speed Force that was leading him here. He'd heard it could be strange sometimes.

Just as he neared the stream, the ground suddenly gave out under his feet. He shouted in surprise, clawing at the edges of the hole down which he had almost fallen. But the dirt gave way under his hands, and he was in freefall.

The fall was unreasonably long, and when he finally managed to turn himself around in midair, he saw the branch of a fir tree, rapidly approaching his face. He only had a second more to take the ground and more branches of the same tree into consideration before the branch slapped into his face.

_Aw, crap._

**A/N: AUUUGH! It's been nearly a month since I updated last! **  
**I'm so sorry, readers! **  
**Well, anyway, there was the new chapter. Please review!**


	18. Animadverto

It seemed like a full year had passed the next time Wally opened his eyes. For a split second, he didn't remember or feel anything-and then it was all back, aided by his accelerated speed.

He groaned, annoyed at the ache that had already spread through his limbs and the persistent stinging in his eyes, which he had barely managed to close before the first fir branch smacked into his face. He slowly sat up, glancing around himself as his vision cleared.

_Trees. Lots of trees. Artificial lighting and darkness otherwise, which would mean an inhabited cave. Not the Batcave; there weren't any trees there, that much I know. _

Wally put a hand on the nearby trunk of a ponderosa pine to help himself stand up, suddenly letting go of his balance as he noticed that the bark was sticky with sap. He sighed in frustration, brushing the stuff off on a cleaner patch of bark, then took a more serious glance at the surrounding land and listened for sounds of life.

_ Sure enough. _

There was the sound of mingled crying, laughing, and loud talking coming from the opposite end of the cave. Wally quickly gauged the distance and decided on a path zigzagging between the trees, then took it without a moment's further hesitation. One thought had begun to hum through his mind on an endless loop - the thought of Artemis.

He was beginning to recall what had happened those few months ago, slowly but surely. In his mind's eye, he was beginning to put the puzzle pieces together; the density-enhanced staples pinning him to the wall of the last empty Reach ship, saying goodbye to the staticky screen, and then the white-hot fire of the explosion.

How he had survived, he had no idea. But he was here now, and he was positive that if he was really a ghost, his face wouldn't still be burning from the branches that had slapped him in his fall.

As Wally approached the door where the noise seemed to be coming from, his ears picked out several voices he knew from the mix. No, not several; he realized as he put one foot on the threshold - he remembered _all _of them. There was the whole Team, along with someone he couldn't quite believe was alive, and then the one person he wanted to see the most.

_Artemis. _

He was through the door and next to the blonde archer in half a second. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at her. It took her a second to register he was there, as it did everyone, and then she stood up, allowing the chair she had been sitting in next to Jason's bedside to fall to the floor. "Wally?"

The redhead didn't allow her to say more, wrapping her in a hug that was warm in spite of the costume he wore. "It's okay," he mumbled into her hair, closing his eyes as a tear slowly made its way down the side of his nose. "How long has it been since..." he left the statement unfinished as he stepped back, hands still on Artemis' shoulders. He couldn't bring himself to let her go; it seemed like forever since he had seen her, now. Although it couldn't logically have been more than a few days, if he _had_ actually survived the blast up there in space and made his way to earth intact.

Artemis didn't answer his question. She was too afraid that she wouldn't be able to speak around the lump in her throat. So she just put her arms back around Wally's shoulders, and pulled him into a kiss before he could ask anything else.

His eyes widened for a moment before the lids relaxed back down, and the tears flowed more freely than before. The weight of Tim's death lifted off Artemis' shoulders as the memory was drowned out in the sight of the one she'd missed the most standing in front of her.

The rest of the team, who had had half an hour to compose themselves, get drinks, and relax on chairs from the rest of the cave, waited for Wally to greet them as well. Dick had a silly grin on his face at the sight of Artemis finally happy; he hadn't seen her like this since he had come back himself, and the bad news from the Batcave hadn't helped. It was good to see her happy again.

Artemis finally pulled away, but her arm stayed on Wally's shoulder, and she had difficulty tearing her eyes away from him to look at the rest of the team.

"Hi," Wally gingerly managed, not really knowing what else to say. He grinned awkwardly, then suddenly saw Dick standing off to the side, a few feet away from the rest of the team. He suddenly dashed in his best friend's direction, and threw his arms around his shoulders, giving a shout of joy. "Dick! I would've missed you if I had time to think..." he lamely managed, but Dick just patted his back and smiled, understanding the amnesia.

It was almost as if they were kids again in the Cave, kids without tough decisions to be made, or taxes, or jobs, and without any of the worries that came along with those things.

Some of them were kids, for that matter. Like Gar, still standing next to M'Gann, who was leaning on Superboy out of exhaustion. Bart was still a kid too, by the rest of the team's standards.

There was still a hollow place in Wally's heart as his eyes came to rest on every team member but Jaime. They had lost him, a long time ago... he had finally rebelled against the scarab and the Reach had captured him when he had almost won.

The team had found him on the floor of one of their ships, with the scarab torn out of his back. The blood had already stopped spreading when they got there, but Jaime had enough strength left to smile and nod at his team, knowing he had done well.

Dick had told Wally, hanging his head in both shame and pain, how Cassie had cried out at the sight of him, rushing to his side, and Bart had knelt beside his best friend and listened to the last few breaths bubble between his lips.

_Shut up, brain, _Wally mentally ordered himself, returning to the present. He was ready to rush over and give everyone else a hug, when he realized something- _Tim. _

"Where's Robin?" he asked, a frown quirking his eyebrows.

Oddly enough, Jason's eyes were the ones that told the story clearest. Perhaps that was because what had happened to him shone through in understanding and sympathy for the younger Robin, the one now lying on a table somewhere with a sheet drawn up over his face. Maybe it was because of the subtle defeat that was in his eyes, the belief that this should have made him feel good somehow but it hadn't at all.

"Oh." Wally looked down at the floor, trying to absorb the news. So... he'd never get to see the little bird again. It was true that he hadn't really known Tim, having left the team before joined it-but he knew how hard it would hit, no, scratch that, _was _hitting the team.

After all the deaths, fake and otherwise, they had suffered in the past few years, it was more a deepening of a previous wound than a shock to hear the news of their next-to-youngest member's death.

The redhead had to change the subject. He had a feeling that Robin's death had been the main topic of conversation among the people in the room since they arrived-though how long that was, he really didn't know. It hadn't been long enough for them to change out of their costumes, so it couldn't have been more than an hour.

"What about Batgirl?" He suddenly bit his lip, resisting the strong urge to swear at his own blunder. Of course; she probably had died with Tim, whenever that had happened.

To his surprise, Artemis spoke up. "She's in the kitchen. Currently tied up and knocked out, but yeah..."

"Who did that to her?" he asked, anger already rising. One death or injury was enough for one day.

"Me." Artemis looked down at her feet, a tear slipping from her lashes to her cheeks, and then dropping to the floor. "She's crazy, Wally. We still don't know what to do. When she's rested up some, M'Gann will go over her mind for details of what happened to her, but until then, she has to be kept sedated and restrained." She turned tortured stormcloud eyes to Wally. "We have enough trouble already. I don't know what to do."

Wally started for the door. He didn't know how he expected to help her, but he had to do _something. _

**A/N: Well, the team got practically no lines there... sorry 'bout that. **

**Also, this is probably incredibly short. Hey, at least you got to see more Wally!**

**Please review! I'm very grateful that you read this and would love to hear your feedback and what you think will happen next. **


	19. Reassembling

Barbara was still out cold when they got there. So Dick, who had regained most of his balance since getting knocked out himself, picked her up and took her to another room. Her feet and hands remained cuffed- they couldn't afford her escaping and hurting anyone else before she woke up and told them what happened- and Dick cringed every time he saw the handcuffs.

But Artemis had learned from experience that compassion was easily misplaced, and so resisted his efforts to get her to loosen them, take off the leg shackles, anything.

It was evening now, and the team found various places around the cave to crash. Artemis allowed a few of the younger and weaker to take the beds; for the rest, she scraped up piles of evergreen needles and scattered them on the floor in heaps. She had, of course, asked if any of them wanted to leave the cave and find a proper place to sleep, but everyone had refused. Perhaps there had been enough of shocked introductions for one day.

...

Wally and Artemis slept in the same room; Artemis on the floor next to the bed she usually slept in and Wally, who, if he wasn't so injured, would have insisted on sleeping on the floor, lying on the bed itself. They fell asleep holding hands, and M'Gann couldn't help but smile at the sight as she settled down on her own pile of soft evergreen needles on the floor.

Dick slept in the same room he usually did, and several of the less-injured members of the Team were scattered around his bed on the floor. Most of their faces were serene; calm. Raquel must have been dreaming of her fiance and the wedding at which she might have a second chance, and Conner's face was infinitely calm. His mind was probably looping thoughts of his early days with the team - memories of blissful innocence that had long been purged from them in guilt's filthy flood.

But there was one pair of eyes that screwed shut at the darkness without and within; one head that tossed on its evergreen-needle pillow, and one word that was constantly repeated, like a feverish mantra, in the stillness of night.

"Don't... don't..."

...

Artemis jolted instantly to full wakefulness at the sudden, powerful sound of an explosion. She instinctively ducked, holding her hands over her head as she knelt on her makeshift mattress-

_Wait, there's no fire! What just happened?_

She took her hands off her head and glanced around, seeing only a perfectly intact room. The sound of the blast had been too close to have come from outside. So close, it could have been right next to her head...

...or inside of it.

On the floor, not more than six feet away from her, M'Gann sat bolt upright in bed, her mouth open wide in a silent scream, eyes glowing green behind the lids. Artemis scrambled over to her, fighting the powerful pulses of telepathic sound and sensation battering at her mind. "Wake up!" she commanded, gently shaking her teammate's shoulders.

M'Gann's eyes opened, and the green glow quickly faded as consciousness returned to her.

"Where-where am I?" she stammered, glancing around herself as if she had lost her bearings yet again.

"You're at my cave." The words still sounded strange after three months of living here, but that wasn't her main concern right now.

"But there was an explosion, and black, and Gar - is Gar okay?" The Martian's golden eyes were wild, pleading with Artemis just to tell her that her little brother was all right. "Where is he? And where are Conner and La'Gann?"

"They're here too, in the cave. You're all right, M'Gann." Artemis almost added "though I don't know how," under her breath, but decided against it. Her own confusion would be enough for a while. Hers and Wally's, that is... she could sense how weirded-out he was by the whole thing, just by holding his hand. He still hadn't told her the exact details of his return, so she guessed that he wasn't too sure about them himself.

A groan came from the bed against the wall, and Artemis jerked around to sprint back across the room. She came to a stop next to Wally's bed, quickly picking up his hand and gently smoothing the wild hair back from his forehead. "It's okay. I'm here," she whispered, hoping he could hear her.

"Artemis," he whispered back, but his eyes were still flickering back and forth under tight-shut eyelids.

It took only a few seconds for him to snap to full wakefulness. "Artemis," he whispered again, but this time, it was a relieved sound. "Missed you, babe." He smiled, and the fear from what she could only assume to be another nightmare fled from his eyes.

But now she had made her mind up. Having had a whole day to think (albeit around greeting and sharing with the others) had allowed her to form a few theories. She knew now where they would go to find out what was going on. Because they needed to know.

"Wally, will you help me talk to Dick and Jason about this?"

"The dreams?" Wally asked, automatically assuming she knew about them.

"No. What happened to bring you back. You don't know, and you need to."

"I think I went to the Speed Force... but the others? I guess I know as little as you do," he conceded, pushing himself to a sitting position with his elbows. Artemis smoothed the covers and sat down next to him, facing out into the rest of the room.

"I have a few ideas. But before we confirm them, we need to get you - all of you - back to your families. She paused, biting her lip in anticipation of his reaction to what she would say next.

"But we can't tell the League."

**A/N: Whoa, this took forever... so sorry, guys! I've been struggling with writer's block, etc... it's really my fault I didn't publish this earlier, though.**  
**Once again, I'm going to request your theories on what's going on in a review. What (or who) do you think brought them all back? And why is Babs evil? (hint: she wasn't 'picked' to be evil. Any of the team could have been.)**  
**Wally's beginning to doubt it was the Speed Force, since he and Impulse are the only speedsters on the team. Are you?**


	20. Veneratio

**A/N: Hey, Guest! Since I can't reply to your review in a PM, I'm going to do it here.**  
**Thank you. I'll admit that, speaking as a very cruel writer... you're the perfect model of my intended reaction. **  
**If it's any comfort, there's not so much angst in later chapters. Though, if you're reading this, you probably already know that. :P**

**Also, not to be rude or anything... but do let me know who you are if you choose to review signed in, later on! I love to talk to my reviewers. **

**(Side note: Heh, just finished writing this chapter and returned to the A/N to put in necessary notes... I totally did not think I would be putting this much angst in this chapter, not at first. I would apologize, but it would be completely insincere.)**

**In any case, I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!**

"Why?" Wally's tone wasn't accusing, just questioning. Artemis was the one of the Team most likely to keep secrets, but this sounded like a very big one, even for her. And besides, Barry was part of both the League and his family. He _had _to know. And Aunt Iris... she must be horribly broken up.

"I just... I suspect that one of them had a hand in this. I'm not sure yet which one, but I think you can help me figure it out. Will you keep from telling anyone, in the meantime?" She didn't expect a quick reply, or even the one she needed. But she would respect Wally. She had missed him - and above that, she loved him.

The redhead thought for a long moment. As much as it hurt to thought of how his mentor must be grieving, he would rather stay here and completely bypass the temptation, than go back to his family and try to keep the secret of his return from Barry.

After all, he still had Artemis. And she would always be enough for him.

"Think I'll stay officially 'dead' for now, babe. Doesn't seem worth it to go back until I can see everyone." Wally grinned a little halfheartedly in an attempt at encouragement. Artemis didn't need any more pressure just now.

The archer just put her hands on his shoulders, leaning over until she was resting her head on the middle of his chest. "I'm really sorry," she whispered, fighting back a sudden wave of unexpected tears. She was like that lately; unusually emotional over little things.

Then again, what had been practically her family had all died and come back in a matter of a few months. A little heightening of the emotions at this time was easily understandable.

The unnoticed lump growing under her green shirt - not so easily explained.

...

Later, when the light pouring from the lone skylight far back in the cave had turned a bright yellow, and most of the Team had already awakened, they felt it was time to go.

Artemis didn't know where, not yet. Neither did Wally, or so she suspected. And it didn't seem to matter. It was just so good to be able to look over and see him sitting next to her again - to curl up in the twisted sheets of what used to be only _her_ bed and breathe deeply of his scent while he was gone to the kitchen to grab a snack - to listen to his nervous laugh while they talked about their upcoming mission. More than simply 'good', it was unifying. It made her feel as if they were truly one again, hearing, thinking, seeing and feeling the same in spite of all their natural differences.

But they did have to have a basic idea of what they were looking for, at least, before they left the cave. There weren't many members of the League who could do something like this.

Dick and Artemis prepared to leave, and Wally decided to tag along at the last minute. It seemed like two minutes and a lifetime since he'd last seen her, all at the same time.

Dick, as the Team's resident hacker in Tim's absence, would be hacking into the zeta portals' records and checking who had left the Hall of Justice at what time. He had a few guesses as to who was the culprit, but he would need conclusive evidence before he was able to bring an explanation to the Team.

He dressed in casual clothing, choosing to leave the Nightwing persona behind until he was officially resurrected. Artemis dressed the same, discarding both the Tigress and Artemis identities in favor of a civilian outfit. Wally was more than grateful to leave his slightly-scorched, torn suit in the cave.

Zatanna, M'Gann, and Bart all argued vehemently that they should come along, at first, but Artemis held her ground and made a mental note to disable the zeta later on. Three of what used to be Young Justice going out together in public was already risking a lot – more than that meant their cover would be blown almost instantly.

When they had packed up everything they felt they would need, the three former heroes gathered in front of the cave's single zeta portal. Artemis punched in the required location on the dialpad, and they stood stock-still while the machine scanned them, then stepped into the tube and waited.

And waited some more. A long second passed, and Dick and Wally exchanged glances. Without a word spoken, Dick stepped outside of the portal and put both hands on the top of the dialpad, instantly seeing what was wrong. He dug his fingernails under the edge of the pad and twisted it a little to one side – it came up without resistance. All four screws around the edge had been removed, and the wires underneath had been cut in half with some kind of dull implement.

He released a sigh of frustration. Whoever had done this wanted them to stay here – so that meant they had to get out.

"We have to alert the rest of the Team before we find an alternate route. There could be danger," Dick said, already having inwardly formulated an idea as to who it was – but he didn't quite have the heart to tell the others yet. It hurt him, but he halfway welcomed the pain as a distraction from his grief over Tim.

The others tried to act normal, for him – but he knew it wasn't doing anyone good. He almost thought it would be better to know others shared his grief, and to share theirs as well, but then he knew that they would all break down if they openly acknowledged it. Maybe it was because they could all pretend he was alive, if just for a little while.

They had done so before, for a long time after Jason died... then Dick had decided that he had had enough of lying to himself, and stared at the glass costume case in the Batcave until he really did believe it.

Oh, how it had hurt. And knowing that he wasn't in especially good standing with Bruce made him feel horrible, because the Bat took it the worst. For a while, Dick had wondered if it would change him as his parents' death had changed him, then slowly relaxed as Bruce healed and Batman stayed the same.

He still hadn't healed, not until he saw Jason just a few days ago. The shock of it was still fresh and raw, and it hurt him more than he could say to see his little brother's bloodless face with all the bitter lines smoothed out , silhouetted against his pillow by dark hair with a streak of white, lying tangled and unkempt about his head. It reminded him too much of a bruised, shrapnel-torn body lying broken on the table of the Batcave's medbay, years ago when he had been called just in time to say goodbye.

He still remembered how it had been on that horrible, horrible night. He had already spent most of the weekend catching up with some of his old circus buddies, and was ready to head off on a hot date with an equally hot redhead, when he got the call.

_Dick's phone buzzed on the table in the narrow hallway of his small apartment, and he left the bathroom and his pre-date grooming to pick it up. Before he pressed 'send', he noticed the caller ID. It was Bruce._

_Something sunk in his stomach before he picked it up, and Bruce got right to the point. _

"_Hey! What's up?" he asked, trying to shake off the bad feeling. _

_There was a long silence on the other end. Bruce would usually have gotten right to the point. The stone in Dick's stomach grew ten tines heavier, and this time he didn't try to snap himself out of it._

"_What happened?"_

"_Dick, I need you to come to the cave. I would rather have this conversation in person."_

_His eyes widened, and he glanced back at the bathroom. _

_Well, it wouldn't be the first date he'd had to call off. And he was worried now, on top of that. It didn't take any more persuasion to get him out the door. _

_Dick took the stairs to the parking lot below two steps at a time, having completely abandoned his usual sense of class by the time he reached the car door. He swung it open and started the car almost before he had finished sitting down, then took off in the direction of the Batcave. _

_It took him seven and-a-half minutes to get there. He drove down the secret alleyway through the small forest on Wayne property, punched in the password on the two security gates inside, and got out of his car inside the cave._

_The sound of the car door shutting echoed loudly against the empty walls of the Batcave, and the screech of its resident bats followed as their sensitive ears were disturbed by the noise. _

_Dick followed the brightest light in the cave, his quick walk turning to a sprint as he realized that it came from the medbay. _

"_Bruce! What's wrong?" Dick called, but as he turned the corner, a wave of nausea washed over him at the sight that greeted his eyes. _

"_Jay," he half-whispered, sky-blue eyes suddenly widening as he neared the metal table._

_Blood and the remains of the second Robin's shredded cape lay about him on the table; his arms were arranged flat against his sides, and the still-gloved fingers of both hands stuck out at odd angles. _

_Dick reached his brother's side in two long steps, and didn't take his eyes off his face. _

"_Oh, Jay," he repeated, fear leaping into his eyes as he took in the extent of the damage. _

_Jason's ribcage was dented and broken in a few places, and he only managed an occasional weak wheeze every few seconds instead of the regular breathing anyone would want to hear. _

_His face was almost gray, and bleary eyes swam about under half-closed eyelids. Dick knew Jason would still be trying to see, if nothing else – he always was a fighter. _

"_Bruce?" _

_A sound that was almost a name came out on one of the ragged wheezes, and Bruce leaned forward so his face was in Jason's line of vision. _

"_I'm here, son. I'm still here."_

"_Dick?"_

_Dick's eyes widened at the sound of his name – his real name, not some derogatory nickname of Jason's invention. He wouldn't have expected that Jason would call for his predecessor, 'Golden Boy,' as he nicknamed him, in any situation, much less when he was dying. _

_Or something of the sort. Of course he wasn't dying. _

Then why isn't Bruce doing something ? _Reason argued, and he resolutely blocked her out. He had to believe Jason would pull through, for him. _

"_I'm here too, Little Wing," he managed, forcing down the tears that rose in his throat. _

"_Was I... a good soldier?"_

_The dam inside Dick broke at those words, and his composure crumpled. Tears started burning tracks down his cheeks. _

"_You _are _a good soldier, Jason."_

"_Sorry..." his weak voice caught, and his back arched a little up off the table, making him cry out in pain. It wasn't very loud, due to his collapsed lung, but loud enough to make Bruce flinch. _

_The Bat put a hand on Jason's shoulder, which was much less damaged than the rest of him, and the gentle warmth calmed him somewhat. He relaxed back onto the table, and his seafoam eyes drifted closed the rest of the way. _

_They never opened again._

_After that, Dick remembered crying; he remembered burying his head in his hands, remembered Bruce calling for Alfred and making arrangements for the body to be prepared for burial. Leslie Thompkins would take care of the autopsy and papers, and they would have a funeral come next week. _

_Dick didn't want to remember the Team's reaction._

He blinked hard to clear his head. Now wasn't the time for thinking of past losses. It would distract him and slow him down, which wouldn't be a good thing, especially with the fact that they would now have to rely on the small hole in the ceiling above the cave's forest to get to the outside world.

So he closed the emotional part of his mind off from the rest of it, and focused his vision on the beam of bright yellow light illuminating the tops of some of the evergreen trees of the cave, thinking of ways that all three of them could make it up and out. They could call M'Gann... but she was already rather weak, and her mind needed time to recalibrate before she used her telekinesis.

But Dick had a few ideas. And first, he had some things to figure out, here. Thinking about his little brother had reminded him of some questions he hadn't yet had time to ask, and there were a few other things he wanted to clarify before they found out what had really brought them back.


	21. Praeparet Bellum

After Dick, Wally, and Artemis re-sedated Barbara and set off for the outside world, Zatanna was left without much to do.

To be perfectly honest with herself, she believed she had recovered the fastest of any of them from the aftermath of the explosion and their return. Most of the Team was asleep, or trying to sleep, and Bart was on duty right now to take care of Jason.

Zatanna was a little tired herself, but her mind kept running in circles, dancing over all the possibilities of what had brought them back, and so she decided to take a little time to think in the kitchen with a glass of water.

The young magician had a fairly good guess at what, or rather who, was the culprit (or their savior, as some would put it), and she didn't quite know how to feel about it.

On the one hand, Zatanna was honored. She could almost swear she felt the warmth of her father's smile, branded into her own existence and the lives of those who had returned by her side. On the other, she was hurt, bewildered, and confused.

Why had some of them been cheated of another chance at life? Why couldn't this have happened to Tula, or Tim?

_Or Wally? _

The thought sprang unbidden to her mind, accompanied by a strange, inexplicable rush of grief, and she frowned, her heart skipping a beat before it accelerated. Zatanna suddenly stood up from where she sat in one of the tall-backed wooden chairs. Something was wrong here, very wrong.

If she couldn't come along with the others, she would do some investigation of her own.

After all, it was a family matter.

...

With the aid of Dick's grapple gun and a little improvising on Artemis' part after Dick reached the top, it didn't take the three expeditionaries long to reach the surface.

Artemis blinked a little at the bright light outside, raising her arm to shield her eyes. It was odd, being outside again after so long... she had once been an outdoors person, but that had changed in the past three months. Something about the cheerful sunlight reflecting on the grass had reminded her too much of Wally, and the reflection of the sky in the puddles on the street was the color of Dick's costume by night and his eyes by day.

The archeress glanced first at one, then the other, simply for confirmation that they were still there. She could hardly believe they were standing next to her; she still clearly recalled the day she had made the decision to kill them, watched them die, mourned them alone.

Wally looked back at her, and his hand found hers, gently smoothing over the back of her hand with his thumb. There was laughter in his eyes when he looked away again, and before Artemis noticed, they were strolling through the middle of the park like ordinary civilians.

It seemed like forever since she'd last done this. Maybe the hero life wasn't for her after all... she could see why Wally one wanted to quit.

"So, are we going out for coffee or to the Hall of Justice?" Dick asked, a bit of lighthearted sarcasm tinging his words. He felt more than a little unhappy, watching them. All he could think about, seeing them so happy, was how complete he would feel with Babs on his arm.

And Tim walking next to them, living the long, happy life he had always deserved.

Something told Dick that Tim hadn't expected to live long anyway, but this wasn't fair.  
He was _too young._

They boarded a bus, and Dick mechanically paid, thanked the driver, and went to sit down. But he didn't see the bright colors of the sun shining through the trees, or the flowerbeds in the park, or the busy shoppers going about their business in the commercial part of the city.

All he saw was a faceless red-haired girl, dressed all in grey, and another Robin suit hanging empty in its own case in the Batcave.

_And a yellow-clad speedster, saying his last goodbyes to the loved ones he left behind as he flickered and faded away into nothing._

_..._

With a few well-chosen words said backward once she was far enough out in the forest to be out of hearing distance of the rest of the Team, Zatanna closed her eyes and opened them again when she felt the warmth of the bright sunlight on her shoulders. After a few more words, she had changed into fully civilian wear, instead of the traditional female tuxedo, fishnets and bowtie she usually wore.

The park was beautiful at this time of day, but she had other places to go.

When she spotted three other members of her team making their way to a nearby bus, she made a mental note to avoid them. They would be going to exactly the same place she had in mind, and she did not want to run into them and be apprehended. She wasn't exactly a member of their team anymore, in any case... but they would try to tell her to go back, most likely.

Another weak, hardly noticeable wave of grief washed over her, and she shook her head to clear it. That was one thing she didn't understand. But it would most likely find an explanation along with the question of the rest of the Team's reappearance.

**A/N: Weak chapter, I know. But you do get a new focus here... and I think I gave away a good part of the big question in the plot twist. Tell me what you think is going on, as usual! I'm happy to hear it.**  
**And about the Bat-Angst... I've got my fingers crossed for it to get better, too. **  
**Can't tell you much more, though. (You can't believe how much I want to just tell you everything. It is SO HARD to keep my mouth shut.)**


End file.
